


Brown Sugar and Honey

by captainafroelf



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Angst, As in the reader is Black, Awkward Sexual Situations, Black Character(s), Black!Reader - Freeform, But it's not like weird like you're both consenting adults and you're not a student whatever, Chubby Reader, Falling In Love, Female Character of Color, Fights, Flirting, Fluff, Friendship, Marriage Proposal, Meet-Cute, Multi, Nude Photos, Pining, Poetry, Pride, Reader-Insert, Self Confidence Issues, Sexual Tension, Short Reader, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Undercover, Unrequited Love, Will add more tags as i get requests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 15:38:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 67,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7513864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainafroelf/pseuds/captainafroelf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"black women were created of<br/>brown sugar and warm honey.<br/>the sweetest thing to bless the earth.<br/>be wary of anyone who tells you otherwise"</p><p>marvel reader-inserts for black girls with our brown skin and curls<br/>REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING, LOVES!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wash Day (Sam)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (forgive the way i not so subtly lust over sam's arms and hands, writing this gave me major mackie comic con flashbacks... also forgive me for being not great at writing smut, all i can ever do is try my best)  
> smut + fluff + hair stuff

>   _Hi! Could you do a fic where Sam helps me with wash day? I'm training to be a new Avenger and I'm too tired to tend to my 'fro. I'm natural and have super coily hair that's kinda short and I'm really tenderheaded. I would LOVE to see Sam greasing a scalp, twisting bantu knots, and popping on a satin bonnet after and engaging supportive cuddling! Extra points if you could squeeze in some sexytimes! :) Love your brain so much!!!!_

* * *

After clearing your schedule, telling everyone you would do it, and stocking up on Shea Moisture products, you were ready. It was happening whether you wanted it to or not. You had on your comfy sweats, you had about three free hours, and your products were ready.

Wash day has arrived.

But this one was different, because you’d never washed your hair at the Avengers facility before and you were dead tired.

Steve had you working hard to get ready to join the team. He was a great coach and was becoming a good friend but everything was aching at the end of each day. You spent Saturday mornings in bed wondering if any of this was really worth it.

Getting fit and being an Avenger was all good, but did it have to make you feel like walking death? Even your bones ached, your eyelashes ached. Just the sight of workout equipment had you fatigued. You could barely make it to the kitchen to wash your hair without wanting to collapse on the floor and cry.

You held your shampoo, coconut oil, and conditioner under your arm, with your old t-shirt slung around your neck, and mentally gave yourself a pep talk. Your mood lifted when Sam came walking down the hallway, giving you that winning grin. He inspected all of your hair products and paused.

“Wash day?” he asked.

You sighed. “I thought I told y’all it was wash day.”

He shook his head. “I missed that memo.” He noticed the way you were slumping over and immediately became concerned. “You need help with that?”

“I’m fine, Sam. Thank you.”

“You’re walkin’ like you got weights on your ankles and you’re gonna lean over a sink for thirty minutes?” You leaned on the wall and he took your shampoo and conditioner. “C’mon girl.”

“I’d rather you massage my feet or tell Steve to lighten up with the superhero bootcamp.”

Sam licked his lips. “Let’s do one thing at a time.” He reached out for your hand and you took it. He helped you off the wall and you made your way to the kitchen together.

You and Sam had been close from the beginning. You’d been drawn to his kindness and his sincerity, not to mention the fact that he was fine as hell. But you weren’t sure how he felt about you. Of course, he’d always been protective of you because you were the only Black woman on the team, you hung out all the time, and you’d always had your suspicions that he liked you back, but you never had real proof.

But today would change that.

* * *

 Sam was an angel, you were convinced. He’d gotten the water to the perfect temperature, used the perfect amount of shampoo, and the way he massaged your scalp was honestly making you want to call your momma and tell her that you’ve met The One.

“Feel good?”

You hummed and grinned. “Hell yes. The best I’ve felt in weeks.”

He laughed. “Good.” Once all the shampoo was rinsed out, he moved onto conditioner. “The bottle says I’m not supposed to rinse it out.”

“Yeah, just comb it through while it’s damp.”

“Comb or finger comb?”

“Finger comb. But, I’m kinda tenderheaded, so be gentle.”

“Alright, baby girl.” He sat you upright and soaked up the excess water with your spare t-shirt. He split the hair into little sections, combing through with his fingers and rubbing coconut oil on your scalp. He twisted each section and ravelled it into a Bantu knot. It’d been awhile since you’d felt so pampered and cared for.

“Who taught you how to do bantu knots?” you asked him. "You're really gentle for someone with arms the size of my head."

“I have women in my family, you know.” he replied. “I love how soft your hair is. How long you been natural?”

“About two years, it’s one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”

“Your hair is beautiful, and you are too.”

You smiled. “You say that to all the girls?”

“Nope, just you.”

You saw your window to flirt and refused to waste the opportunity. How many times were you going to have Sam Wilson playing in your hair? The very act itself was intimate enough. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, boy.”

Sam sucked his teeth. “You’re the one who’s exhausted and you’re talkin’ about _me_ not starting something I can’t finish?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Damn… You right.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

How rude of him to say with only half of your head done…

Sam worked through the rest of your hair quickly, trying to be gentle with your kinks and coils. You talked about your childhoods. He could barely hold back his laughter when you told him about your first hot comb experience. In fact, the only reason he wasn’t doubled over in laughter was because your hair was in his grip.

“I hated that thing the moment I saw it.” you told him. “When my mom brought it out I thought she was tryna kill me, I was so scared. I literally ran to my room like fucking Usain Bolt and hid.”

“Why would your momma kill you?”

You shrugged. “I had a big imagination as a kid and everyone was bigger than me.”

“Did she burn you?”

“Yes! She tried her best not to but she still clipped my ear, it hurt so bad.” You hissed at the memory.

“My sister hated the hot comb with a passion. She’s natural now, too.”

“We should talk sometime, Sam, you should make that happen.”

He cleared his throat. “Actually, her birthday is coming up and she’s having a party… Wanna be my date?”

You almost jumped out of your seat. It took so much restraint to just sit still. “Yes, I’d love to be your date.”

“Great! I kept meaning to ask but I didn’t wanna make things weird. I’ve liked you for awhile and been too damn stupid to say anything.”

“Really?”

“Really. I told Steve to talk me up during your training sessions, but I guess he never did it...”

You gasped. “ _That’s_ why he kept talking about all your interests? Oh Steve… You should’ve gotten a different wingman. You should’ve asked Bucky or Natasha, or just asked me out yourself, I think you’re really cute.”

You didn’t have to see him to know he was smiling from ear to ear. “I was hoping that you’d think I’m dazzlingly handsome, or the finest brother on the team…”

You laughed. “You’re the finest brother, _period_.”

“I like the sound of that.” He finished your hair and wiped off his hands. “Now, about that foot massage…”

“Not in the kitchen, Sam! People eat here!”

He walked around to the front of you and looked at his handiwork. He looked so proud of himself. “Way ahead of you, stand up.”

You did as you were told and stood. He pulled your arm around his neck and hooked his arm under your legs. He started carrying you bridal style back to your room. The heavens opened, your skin was clear, Al Green started playing in your head. In that moment, you didn’t care about how tired you were, or how tired it would make you, Sam was gonna get it and get it all.

He laid you down on the bed and you tried your best to look “sexy”. He reached behind your head and found your bonnet.

“Need this?”

“Yes!” You looked at the bonnet and froze. He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, the bonnet… yeah.”

He put the bonnet on your head and smiled down at you. He tugged on the waistband of your sweatpants. “Mind if I take these off?”

You shook your head and he peeled off your sweatpants. You wanted to feel weird, laying there in front of Sam in your underwear, but you didn’t. You definitely felt _something_ , but it wasn’t weird...

He sat up at the end of the bed, taking one of your feet in his hands. He massaged it slowly, calloused hands working the ache from your muscles. You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy the moment as he worked his way from your feet to your ankles and calves. It felt so good, and you completely needed it. Not to mention how good it felt to have his hands on your skin.

Sam chuckled to himself. “You’re right, I should’ve asked Nat to be my wingman.”

“Yes, you really should have!” You told him. “Asking Steve to be your wingman is like asking a child to babysit a child of the same age. He tries his best, and I love the guy, but he’s not the smoothest. I’ll tell him he got us together, it’ll make him feel good.”

He finished massaging your legs and you pouted. You just wanted him to keep touching you. He was so gentle with your hair and with your muscles and you just wanted him to gently ruin you.

He checked his phone. “I have to meet Buck downstairs in fifteen minutes, which means we only have about ten minutes.”

You smirked. “So do I have to take my own panties off or…”

“Nope, I’ll do all the work.”

He slid your underwear down to your ankles and pulled your legs over his shoulders. Part of you couldn’t believe this was happening. You couldn’t believe Sam’s head was between your thighs. The other part of you was ready to scream for him to touch you already.

He kissed your inner thighs and you could feel his breath hit your heat. Two of his fingers circled you. You couldn’t believe he was teasing you this way.

“Please, Sam…” you moaned.

 _Finally,_ he licked your wetness. He rolled it across you slowly, groaning from the mere taste of you. You sighed softly, the tension that already built between you made this all the more satisfying. His free hand kept you still as his mouth and fingers explored every part of you, licking and sucking and kissing. You knew there were others on the floor so you tried keeping quiet but that was a battle, especially once he found your clit.

Before you had a chance to revel in the fact that he knew where it was, his tongue was already driving you crazy. He played with your most sensitive point so gently. You arched your back off the bed and covered the scream in your throat by biting down on your pillow. The pressure in your core was building quickly.

He pushed his fingers inside you and you knew that you’d hit your climax at any moment. He slowly pumped his fingers, curling them once he’d found that one spot that could make you easily come undone.

You shouted his name and lifted your hips towards his face as you felt yourself get closer and closer. His tongue only worked faster, harder. Pulling you over the edge in moments. You felt the warmth rush through you and your body shivered as it released around Sam’s hand and tongue.

He cleaned you off with his tongue, making sure to get your thighs, too. Then he lifted his head from between your legs. He kissed you gently, and you grinned against his lips. "I wish I could stay..." he whispered.

"You could."

"I really can't, baby girl."

You tried coming back to your senses while he got off the bed to go meet with Bucky. You propped yourself up on your elbows and watched him go. “Fucking Bucky…” you whispered. “What a cockblock…”

Sam opened the door and smiled back at you. “I’ll be back later.”


	2. The Cute Art Teacher (Thor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love your requests!! you guys are so cute :D  
> this short one is pure fluff

> _oooooh, i've gotta request! reader-insert for the PTA! AU universe where the reader is picking up their friend's kid for their first day at school and history teacher Thor is smitten but blushes embarrassingly when he mistakes the reader for the kid's mom!_

i hope you don't mind that i've altered this a little. i just love the idea of teacher!thor + meet-cutes... some of y'all knew this

* * *

 You couldn’t remember how long you’d been lying on the couch. You remembered getting home from work, pulling out a glass and a bottle of wine, but apparently you didn’t pour any, you just fell asleep. You only woke up because you heard your best friend’s ringtone…

_Cause my best friend finna, she finna. Oh, go best friend, that’s my best friend, that’s my best friend…_

You noticed that the phone was sitting on the other side of the room and whined. “Ah shit...”

_You better fuck it up, best friend won’t you, won’t you, won’t you? Throw it in a circle, yassss!_

You peeled yourself off the couch and walked to your phone. “Hey, J, what’s up?”

“Girl, I’m stuck at work.” she replied, sounding frantic. “There’s an art show at Amina’s school tonight and I need you to go for me.”

“Yeah, sure, when is it?”

“Seven.”

You looked at the time on your phone. “Girl, it’s 6:30. Where’s your wife?”

“She dropped Amina off but she had to work late, too. I’m sorry. I know it’s super last minute and it’s a mess, but-”

“It’s fine. I’m already dressed.”

You looked down at your paint splattered clothes. You'd managed to wipe your arms, face, and hands clean but those stains would be a killer to get out. That's the last time you shoot ‘avant garde’ engagement photos for painters…

“I'll blend right in.”

J let out a sigh of relief. “I can't thank you enough, girl. I owe you.”

This was neither the first nor the last time that J managed to wrangle you into something last minute, but you loved her enough to do it every time. “Yeah, well, maybe I'll see that art teacher Amina's always gassing up.” You grabbed your car keys and your bag and slipped on a jacket. “And he just better be that cute, sis.”

“I’ll call Amina and tell her that you’re coming. Oh, and could you take pictures?”

You giggled. “Free of charge just for you.”

You drove down to Amina's elementary school. She was waiting inside with some friends when she saw you parking and ran over to the car. You were basically her auntie, and you loved that kid. She was too cute and too smart for her own good.

When you got out of the car she attacked you with a hug. “We just started! You didn't miss anything.”

“Good!”

She pulled you along into the building. “I want you to meet Mr. Odinson!”

“Hold on, Mi-Mi, let’s take a selfie for your mommys.”

Amina smiled and waited for you to dig out your phone. She bounced on her heels. “Can I hold the camera?”

“Of course, you’re the artist!” You pulled up your camera and handed her the phone, then leaned down to her height. “Ooh, make a funny face!” You both made funny faces and she handed the phone back when she captured the perfect shot. You laughed. “I love this one, I’m making it my lock screen.”

A teacher wearing a red jacket ran down the hallway. “There you are, Amina!” He stopped when he saw you and grinned. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know your mom was here.”

You were in shock. This had to be the art teacher, because this tall, blond dude was ridiculous. _My art teacher didn’t have arms like that…_ “I’m not her mom, I’m a friend of her moms.”

“This is my auntie _________!” Amina said, wiggling her eyebrows. “She’s not married.”

He blushed. “Oh, my apologies, I’m Thor Odinson, Amina’s art teacher.” You smiled and shook his hand. “Amina says that you’re a photographer, right?”

“Yeah, I usually work with a Nikon D3300 but today I’m working with an iPhone.” You felt proud when he actually laughed at that joke. “I, um, do weddings and engagements and big events. I covered the big natural hair thing that was in town a few weeks ago. I’m talking too much, do you do photography?”

“Yes, but I’m not very good at it. I wish I had more time for it but I’m actually teaching two classes.”

“Oh really? What's the other class?”

“Ancient history. I like to focus on mythology, the kids really like it.”

You smiled. “I love mythology! In college, I mostly studied Norse and West African stories. They’re more fascinating than the Greco-Roman stuff.”

“I feel you, I had the kids do portraits of gods in art class and Amina chose to do Oya.”

“The deity of winds, nice one, kid.” You gave her a high five. “That’s what happens when her moms let me babysit.”

He laughed. “Well you’re a great babysitter.”

You blushed. “Yeah, I mean, you know how it is, I love kids…” Amina smiled at her handiwork and skipped away. She assumed you wouldn’t notice her leave, but you did. You laughed to yourself. “You know what she did, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Oh c’mon. She’s been talking my ear off for weeks about her new cute art teacher and now she’s left us alone together. I think she’s trying to play matchmaker.”

Thor tucked some stray hair behind his ear. “I think you might be onto something, but her description of you left out the part about you being stunning.”

You couldn't believe this fine man was actually flirting with you while you were covered in paint and looked like you just rolled out of bed. You knew you had it but... dayum. _Say something back…_ “Thank you, you’re not too bad yourself.” _Smooth_. You turned and saw Amina and her little friends peeking at you from behind the corner at the end of the hallway. “We should get to the art show, you’re missing in action.”

He didn’t take his eyes off of you. “Yeah, that’s true, I’m _technically_ at work right now.”

“And I promised her mom that I’d take pictures…” You not-so-subtly moved closer to him. “I mean, there’s no rule against me sticking by you the whole time, right? As a parent-appointed guardian, of course.”

“Not last time I checked. Plus, I'm around these kids all day, I'm sure they're tired of me.”

“The way Amina talks about you, I don't think that's true.”

“Okay, you've got to tell me what Amina's been saying.”

You linked arms with him and started walking together. “Only the good stuff, I promise... Jesus, your arms are huge...”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

By the end of the night, you’d done what you were supposed to do. You got pictures of all of Amina’s art and tons more of Amina herself. Thor walked you two to your car when the night was done. Once she was inside, you decided to take initiative and ask for his number but, surprisingly, he beat you to it.

“Are you free on Saturday night?”

You were beaming. “Yeah!”

“Great! I should give you my number.”

Amina stuck her head out the window. “She’s free next Saturday, too!”

“Ignore her.”

You exchanged numbers and Thor said goodbye to Amina. “By the way, I don't do anything remarkable to get my arms this big, but I've been told that I'm a great hugger.”

You smirked. “I'll have to test that theory later.”

He winked and walked back towards the school. You were a giggling mess once he was out of earshot. Even when you got in the car you were still a little bit giggly.

“Auntie?”

“Yeah?”

“My momma lied.”

“About what?”

“Her and mommy aren’t working late, they just want to set you up.”

You sighed with the goofiest grin on your face. “I don’t even care.” And you really didn't.


	3. Cookin' Mama (Bucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> getting this chapter together was such a goddamn ordeal and i couldn't think of a better title, sorry, don't throw ya stones.  
> this chapter would make the guyanese side of my family pass out.  
> fluff + cooking + bucky barnes charm

> _Can you do a Bucky x chubby reader where she's teaching him how to cook (since they used to boil everything) just really fluffy loll_

* * *

 

Being with Bucky was like a dream. You thought it would never happen. You didn’t expect him to open up to you like he did, you didn’t expect to develop feelings for him, and you sure as hell didn’t expect your feelings to be reciprocated. But he was yours and you were his. You absolutely adored each other and showered each other with affection. Steve and Sam both told you that they’d never seen him happier. But every relationship has it’s problems, you just considered yourself lucky that his shitty cooking was your only problem.

But it _really_ was a problem. He’d tried cooking for you only once before, in an attempt at being romantic. He knew food was one of the easier ways to your heart, and that gesture was nothing short of touching after your last boyfriend who tried police everything you put on your plate. Bucky liked that you liked to eat because he liked to eat and wanted you to be happy.

Cute, right? You thought so, until he actually tried it.

You couldn’t remember exactly what it was that he’d tried to make you, but you remember it being Carribean and burning. You remembered the absolute distress on his face when he realized he couldn't actually cook, and the confusion when you started laughing at him. 

“I used to cook for girls all the time!” he told you.

“In the forties, baby.” you reminded him. You made him take off his apron and you promised to teach him to cook like someone who loved themselves.

The first step was a trip to the market. You walked through the aisles with your basket in your hand and him draped around your soft body like a big brooding cape. You couldn’t go anywhere without him touching you. It was adorable, considering that he was pretty much terrified of touching you when you first kissed, and even more afraid the first time you slept together. While he was still mindful of his ability to hurt you, especially with the metal arm, he knew he couldn’t. He loved you too much.

While at the market, you introduced him to the wonders of spices and the different types of baking chocolate (for dessert). He kept trying to distract you by kissing behind your ears, but you were determined to teach this boy how to do something besides toast and struggle coffee.

You giggled as an older woman gave you both a disapproving look. “Baby, people are staring, stop.”

He smiled. “When has that ever stopped me before?”

“The last thing I need is to be some old lady’s story when she meets up with her friends at church.” You told him. “She’ll be like, ‘Girl, these young people are wild, goin’ at it in grocery stores. Lord Jesus’...”

He sighed and squeezed you tighter. “Well, maybe you should stop being so damn cute all the time, Christ. Plus, you’re wearing this skirt. A man can only take so much.”

You rolled your eyes. “That sounds like a real 'you' problem, I’m immune to the Bucky Barnes charm.”

He compromised and just took your hand. Admittedly, you immediately missed the warmth of your human space heater. “That’s quite the lie, dollface.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” You groaned and tried to scratch your thighs as subtly as possible. “I forgot to wear bandelettes today, my thighs are killing me.”

“They wouldn’t rub together if my face was between ‘em.”

The old lady from before passed them again, looking even more disgusted than before. You waved at her. “Hello, ma’am.” She just shook her head and continued on her way.

You got all your ingredients and went to the checkout. Bucky snuck a candy bar onto the belt while you talked to the clerk about your jewelry. He insisted on carrying the bags for you, even though you only had two. He probably would’ve offered to carry you, too, if he didn’t know you’d say no.

You made it back to your place and put the groceries in the kitchen. You put away what you didn’t need for now and laid out what you did, then you turned on some soft music. The moment was calling for it.

“What are we making?” Bucky asked you.

“First things first, let me pull that hair out of your face.” You put your own hair up and he handed you his hair tie. You had him sit in front of you on one your stools. “Gonna make it nice and neat, I promise.”

He hummed blissfully. Nothing made him feel safer than the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. You were pretty much the only reason he’d kept it long. “I wish my hair was all pretty and curly like yours.”

You snorted. “I like your white boy emo hair.” When you were done, you leaned his head back and kissed his forehead. “All done.”

“So what are we making, beautiful?”

“Well, you’re not ready to make Caribbean or African food. Remind me not to tell my dad that when you meet him.”

He winced just thinking about all the smoke in the kitchen from the last ordeal. “Damn…”

“We’re gonna try something simple and so easy that you could make it in your sleep… But you shouldn’t make it in your sleep because it involves an oven and it takes a little time... It’s lasagna.”

He laughed. “Such an outlandish choice.”

“You’ve obviously never had my lasagna, baby boy.”

You pulled out your slow cooker and Bucky’s eyes widened. “Wait, I don’t think we have one of those.”

“That’s fine, just call me over whenever you need it.”

“Really? Wouldn’t that be too much trouble?”

“For you? Never.”

You cooked the meat and vegetables together in the slow cooker and started boiling a pot of water and olive oil on the stove. You had Bucky stir in the tomatoes and oversaw him while he added in the seasoning. After letting that simmer (and doing a little slow dancing around the kitchen) for a while, you had him taste the sauce and the reaction was telling.

“I love you.” He whispered.

You smiled and preheated the oven. “I know, you’ve told me. I love you, too.”

“Holy shit, I have honestly never loved someone more.”

You threw your head back in laughter when his hands started moving down your sides. “We haven’t even started on the pasta, keep your hands to yourself. While I’m cooking the pasta, do you wanna get started on the cheese?”

“Sure, honey.”

You cooked the pasta and he mixed up the cheese then you layered the lasagna together in a pan, covered it in foil, and threw it in the oven.

“We have thirty minutes.” You told him. He smirked. “No.”

“Why not?”

“I know you, thirty minutes turns into an hour.”

“Never heard you complaining.”

You decided to just watch tv while the lasagna cooked. You curled up in his lap and he gave you half of his candy bar.

“That line from earlier was really good.” You told him.

“Heh, which one?”

“The one where you were like ‘Your thighs wouldn’t rub with my head between them’.”

He chuckled. “Wasn’t a line, those were just facts.”

You turned to him. “Did you mean it when you said you’ve never loved anyone more?”

Bucky smiled at you, wider than most people would ever get to see him smile. You knew the answer instantly, the joy on his face completely gave him away. The feeling he had for you he lacked the words to describe. “Absolutely.”

“What if I told you I loved you more than that?”

“Not possible.”

You kissed him and he tasted like candy. To him, you were always this sweet.

The lasagna was good, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's probably a good idea to start telling you who's next.  
> next chapter is sam!


	4. Watch The Sunrise (Sam)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have i mentioned that i love sam? i do. love him.  
> this chapter's really REALLY short but i hope it's still guuuuuuddd for y'all and your souls  
> fluff + mornings + butterflies in the stomach

 

> _Sam waking the reader up with kisses so they can do a morning run._

* * *

 

You weren’t a morning person until you met Sam Wilson… No, wait, that’s a lie, you still weren’t a morning person. But Sam definitely made mornings something to look forward to.

“Baby, you awake?”

You were now. You kept your eyes closed and pretended to be sleep. His hands slid down your arms and his lips followed. It took everything in you not to smile.

He turned you on your back, and that’s when you broke down and grinned, and he grinned back. “Let’s go for a run.”

Your eyes fluttered open. He kissed your arms and shoulders. “Mmm… I’d rather be in bed with you.”

He smiled and held your face, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips. The lazy morning kisses were always the best, soft and sweet and gentle. His lips were made for yours. It wasn’t helping him make the case for getting out of bed though.

“I wish I could be here forever…” He pressed kisses to your neck. “How did I end up waking up every morning next to a goddess?”

You covered your face. “Stop!”

“I’m serious, girl. I’m the one with wings, but you’re the angel.”

“You come up with that line yourself?”

He laughed. “Every word. Come on, we’ll go for a run, get something to eat, and when we come back…”

You sighed. “When we come back you’ll get called off to a mission.”

He shook his head. “Called in sick.”

You smiled from ear to ear. Sam never called in sick, sometimes he’d fight through actual illness just to do his job. Usually if Steve went into work, he’d be there too. You were used to it, even if it left you feeling a little lonely. It wasn’t like you didn’t know he still loved you. But you really knew he loved you now.

“You really called in sick?”

He nodded. “Told Steve that this was a day for me and my girl.”

“Sam…”

“And I was thinking it would be perfect to run with you while the sun rises…”

You sat up, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was so beautiful, the most beautiful man you’d ever met. The warmth of his heart and soul just seemed to glow from him, and he saw you the same way.

“I love you, Sam Wilson.”

“I love you, too.”

“But I’m gonna lap your ass out there.” You jumped out of bed and ran to take a shower.

He watched you go, wondering how he got so lucky. “Yeah right…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: T'Challa!!!!  
> (i knew y'all were waiting for him, don't act like you weren't)


	5. Freefallin' (T'Challa)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so tired you have no idea  
> t'challa + fluff

 

 

> _T'Challa has seen the reader in passing multiple times whenever he visits the Avengers building, but always decides against introducing himself. But one day the reader’s walking past him and almost falls because of the freshly waxed floors. Papers scatter on the ground as T'Challa catches the reader mid-fall and they’re both staring into each other’s eyes. After making sure the reader’s okay and helping pick up their papers, T'Challa asks them out for lunch._

* * *

 

You were always in a rush, it seemed. People could hear your heels clicking across the floor like a siren, letting people know you were near and had somewhere to go. T’Challa didn't visit the Avengers often, he had more pressing matters to attend to as king of Wakanda, but he welcomed the sound as part of his routine on those visits.

He saw your face maybe twice, he'd held the elevator door for you and you thanked him formally. You were scatterbrained, sure, but professional nonetheless. But before he could get a name, you walked away. He was left kicking himself, wondering why he didn't speak up. All he wanted was a chance to introduce himself the right way and ask you out.

The good thing is, he didn't have to wait. The floor waxer would do half of his job for him.

You didn't usually pay attention to the maintenance schedule. No amount of detours was going to make you late for work. However, you really should've remembered that the floors were waxed every other weekend, because once your balance was lost, it was lost. The fall felt longer than it was, as if the world moved in slow motion for a moment, and you let out something akin to a scream. Papers fell around you like confetti and the people around you seemed concerned but didn't budge.

But, in the end, you didn't feel the cold, hard ground beneath you. No, you felt someone's strong chest and arms catching you halfway down. The embrace of your savior was welcomed with a sigh of relief, but eyes were still fixed on you and that was embarrassing enough.

However caught you helped you stand up straight and you smoothed out your outfit, letting the few onlookers know you were okay. “Thank you so much, how could I repay you?” You looked down and were amazed to see T’Challa of all people picking up your papers, neatly stacking them into your folder. “Your Majesty…”

“You're so welcome.” He told you. “Are you alright?”

You nodded and took the folder from him, quickly shuffling everything back into the right order and slyly fixing your hair. “I’m fine, Your Majesty.”

He stood up straight and looked at your ID and then into your eyes. You’d always found him striking, but with his status as an actual king (as well as being hot enough to compete with the sun) you didn’t think you had a chance. “Please, call me T’Challa. You mustn't feel an obligation to repay me, ____________.”

You tried not to look too overwhelmed by how beautiful your name sounded in his accent. “You didn't have to do that for me.”

He laughed. “Well, if I didn’t no one else would, I’m the only one who seemed to move when you slipped.”

You sighed. The argument could've been made that T'Challa was the quickest man in the room, but he wasn't the closest. Someone else easily could've caught you. “The bystander effect is something else… But seriously, I wanna repay you somehow. I’m just not sure how to repay royalty.”

T’Challa smiled at the window of opportunity. “Perhaps we could start with me taking you out for coffee…”

You looked down. “Oh goodness...”

“You can refuse, of course, you are allowed to."

You shook your head. "No, that's not it, I'm just stunned that you're asking me out."

"Why not? You're beautiful. What is it that you do here?"

"I work in the research department."

"Lovely and smart, I see."

You shrugged. "I mean, I guess that I thought kings went for other royalty... or pretty white girls..."

He laughed. "How many kings have you met exactly?"

"Well... one..."

"Exactly, and I'm asking you out."

You bit your lip and pulled off a spare Post-It note from your folder and the pen that'd been resting behind your ear, then you wrote your cell phone number down for him. "I go on break in an hour, could you meet me at the coffeehouse nearby? It's Black-owned and they have these really soft cookies that'll have you feeling on top of the world, I swear."

He took your number and gave you his. "I will see you then."

"Alright, I'll see you then, T'Challa." You took your time rushing away, occasionally looking over your shoulder at him, only to find him looking back at you too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Rhodey!!!!


	6. An Achievement in Failure (Rhodey)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd like to thank the person who requested this for remembering how much i love terrible, god-awful movies (if you've never had a bad movie night, all the films mentioned in this chapter are not only real but great to make your friends watch)  
> rhodey + bad movies + fluff

 

> _The reader and Rhodey talking about the best terrible movies they’ve ever seen, complete with quoting favorite lines and acting out favorite scenes. Sam and Bucky are dragged into the conversation._

* * *

 

“That’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” Rhodey told you. “That was like looking at the inside of a drunk guy’s mind.”

You’d just finished watching Neil Breen’s _Fateful Findings_ , a movie you told Rhodey would either make his brain hurt or make him laugh. It did both. You’d seen the movie many times, so you knew what to expect, but hearing Rhodey whisper “What the hell is going on?” throughout the duration of the movie while you laid your head on his lap made you cry with laughter. When you told him you were gonna do bad movie night, he didn’t expect the movies to be quite this… bad. You couldn’t tell if he wanted to laugh or cry.

“Wait, wait, wait, can we talk about this for a moment?”

You sat up and faced him. “Where do wanna start?”

“I don’t even know…” he said. “What was with the magic rock? I thought this was a movie about a man’s failing marriage.”

You smiled. “Are you sure it was about a man’s failing marriage or a secret operation to uncover government secrets?”

“I swear to you, I don’t know.”

“I told you it was bad.”

He shook his head. “No, you said it was ‘interesting’ and you ‘wanted my thoughts’ on it.”

“Baby, you’ve known me as long as you’ve known Tony and you still fall for shit like that?”

Rhodey smiled at you. “Cause you bat those pretty eyelashes at me and I forget who I’m talking to.”

You kissed him and got a text. The screen said it was from the group chat you had open with Sam and Bucky. “I invited the knuckleheads up to watch _Samurai Cop_ with us.”

“Why?”

“Because Bucky doesn’t believe it exists.”

He knew that look in your eyes far too well. “Honey, what’s _Samurai Cop_ about?”

“You’ll see.” You looked at the stack of bad movies on the couch next to you. “This has been fun.”

“Of course it has, I’m watching the worst movies ever made with you.”

You laughed. “I only put you through it because I knew you’d have a great time suffering with me. Which one’s your favorite?”

Rhodey thought about it for a minute. “I really like _The Happening_ ,” he said. The memory of the movie itself making him start to laugh. “I really really like _The Happening_.”

You smiled. “It’s a classic!”

“God, what was it Zooey Deschanel said in the beginning?”

You slipped into your best impersonation of Zooey Deschanel’s expression from her first scene in the movie. The face alone made Rhodey weak. “It makes you kill yourself. Just when you thought there wasn’t any more evil that could be invented.”

“Incredible.”

“The thing that gets me is, Shyamalan is known for his plot twists but this one didn’t even have a solid reveal. It was revealed, like, twenty minutes in, it was like he didn’t even care!”

“No one hires Mark Wahlberg to play a science teacher because they care about the movie they’re making.”

You crossed your legs on the couch. “Remember Lisa’s mom from _The Room_? That’s who he reminded me of.”

Rhodey groaned. “Please don’t remind me of _The Room_.”

“Baby, I didn’t even show you the absolute worst Neil Breen movie, _I Am Here… Now_.”

“How is that worse than this?”

“Neil Breen plays alien Jesus.”

“What?”

“There’s a scene where, I swear, these two sex workers just stand there laughing topless for a solid five minutes.”

“We’re watching that after _Samurai Cop_.”

Sam and Bucky walked into the room, both giving you a hug before joining you on the couch. Judging by the look on Bucky’s face, it was obvious to you that he still didn’t believe the movie could possibly be as bad as you described it.

“It’s really awful, trust me.”

Bucky shook his head. “You ever tried sitting through a made for tv movie about your life? Nothing could possibly be worse.”

You scoffed. “Uh, I’ve seen Tony Stark porn before. The actor’s beard was fake.”

“Nah, y’all ever seen _Troll 2_?” Sam asked. “That movie is…. An achievement in failure.”

“I believe we were invited up to watch _Samurai Cop_.” Bucky said. “Ten bucks say it’s not that bad.”

“Twenty. I know you’re wrong and you’re gonna live to regret it.”

“You’re on.”

Rhodey shook his head. “Don’t make bets with her, man.”

“Your girlfriend doesn’t scare me, Rhodes.”

He shrugged. “I hope you don’t mind losing twenty bucks. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You popped _Samurai Cop_ into the dvd player and it began. 96 minutes of awful acting, awful writing, awful editing. The fight scenes were astoundingly terrible. The lead was obviously wearing a wig in one scene and not in the next. The close-ups were ugly. It was like watching a trainwreck or watching someone try to get out of a Saw trap.

In the middle of the movie, Bucky handed you a crisp twenty dollar bill. You tucked it in your bra and leaned over to whisper in Rhodey’s ear. “I’ll buy you something nice.”

He smiled. “Tried to warn him.”

Bucky sat with his head in his hands. “... What the fuck is happening?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Steve!!


	7. Show Some Muscle (Steve)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know my titles are the worst things you've ever read but i thank you for dealing with them  
> steve + a little steam + working out

 

> _B &S request: Steve and you get into an argument about who's the strongest between the two of you. He aims to prove it's him, by any means necessary (cue adorable tickle fight and slight NSFW) ;D_

the tickle fight turned out a lot more sexy than i thought it would be

* * *

 

The day you realized Steve Rogers had a bit of competitive streak was the first day you were in the field together. You were strong before becoming “enhanced” to have super strength, but the moment he saw you lift about 800 pounds over your head like it was nothing you couldn’t tell if he was jealous or turned on.

You knew he could probably lift more than that with his pinky but were you gonna tell him that? Of course not. Between your thirst for competition- among other things- and the fact that you lived for drama, this seemed like a perfect opportunity to torture Steve. _So the game began._

Steve would make eye contact with you while he lifted in the Avengers gym. You would return his eye contact with a grin and lift weights about 100 lbs heavier and then walk out the gym. He’d casually wear shirts showing off his muscles around you, and you made a point to spend hours strutting around in your yoga pants and sports bra. When furniture in the common area needed rearranging you basically raced to see who’d get to lift the couch. The rest of the team just wanted you two to get a room already.

The one-armed push-up contest was a spectacle.

“Getting tired yet, grandpa?” You said, panting as you passed fifty easily.

He shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Why are you so determined to prove that you’re stronger than me, huh?” You asked. “It’s like you have a crush on me or something, Rogers.”

“Nah.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll kiss you if you lose this contest…” You didn’t have to look close to see him start to blush. It would be cute if you weren’t in the middle of intimidating him. “Maybe I’ll do a little more than kiss you.” Suddenly he was standing. “What happened?”

You’d never seen him leave a room so quickly. “I gotta go.”

Next time he saw you in the gym, you were doing pull-ups. You flashed your usual shit-eating grin at him and he looked completely done. He wrapped his hands and started working on the punching bags.

“Giving up on our little competition so easily, Steve?” You asked. “I feel like I’m sweating out my hair for nothing.”

He smiled and focused on the punching bag in front of him. “I’ve been going easy on you.”

You jumped off the bar and ran over to hold the punching bag. “That’s sexist and racist, Steve, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to take your shield.”

“You’d look good in my costume. Too bad I’m stronger than you.”

“A claim you have yet to support with any kind of physical proof.” You reached out and squeezed his cheek. “Unfortunately you don’t get points for losing and staring at my ass.”

He stopped punching and looked away from you. “I don’t… stare…”

“You do, but that’s okay. That’s your consolation prize.”

He let out a deep sigh and stepped away from the punching bag. “How about we try something new?”

You raised an eyebrow. Maybe it was the fact that you were both sweating in a hot gym, but that proposition didn’t sound entirely innocent. “I’m listening.” Steve pulled out two chairs and a table. “Are you fucking kidding me? An arm wrestling contest? Are we twelve years old?”

“You scared?”

You scoffed and sat across from him. “I’m not scared of anything, especially not you.”

You joined hands and bit your lip as he counted down from three, then the match began. At first he had the upper hand. You strained to get your hands back to the center. It seemed like things were taking a turn when you applied a little more pressure, now your hands were closer to your side and you couldn’t believe there was actually a chance that you could beat Steve in an arm wrestling match.

 _“Who’s strong and brave, here to save the American way…”_ you sang.

“Seriously?”

_“Who vows to fight like a man for what’s right night and day?”_

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you…”

 _“Who will campaign door-to-door for America? Carry the flag shore to shore for America? From Hoboken to Spokane, the star-spangled man with a plan!”_ In a second, your arm was pinned to the table. You pouted as he threw his arms up in victory and jumped out of his chair “Icarus flew too close to the sun…”

“Yes, she did.” He chuckled. “_________, why do you know that song?”

Now it was your turn to start sweating nervously. You folded your chair up and avoided his stare. “Because it’s a free country and YouTube has everything.”

“Right, right, so you weren’t doing anything like looking at old videos of me or anything?”

“No,” you replied, like a liar.

He stepped a little closer to you, giving you a look that would’ve made even the most committed nun blush. You felt your back hit the wall and it was only then that you realized you two were alone in the gym.

He tickled your sides and you tried kicking him away but, as you’d already established, he was stronger than you. “You wanna lie to me again? Huh?”

You laughed and tried pushing his hands. “Stop, you’re such an asshole!”

“So what was all that about me having a crush on you? I think you've had a crush on me this whole time."

You practically squealed as the tickling got worse. You were like putty in his hands, his body was pinning you to the wall. “Steve Rogers, I swear if you don’t stop, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?”

You grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into a desperate kiss. You got the reaction you wanted. He stopped tickling you and smiled against your lips.

“I was wondering when you were gonna do that…” he whispered.

“Sounds like you’ve thought this through.”

“Yeah, I’ve thought about you a lot…” He said, leaning in closer to your ear. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he kissed yours. You let your head fall back on the wall and tried listening when he whispered something else in your ear. “Race you to my room."

You smiled and decided to play with fire a little. You were gonna take him up on his offer, but you just couldn't help yourself. "Oh Steve, you're cute, but it'll take a little more than that to convince me to-"

You gasped when he slipped his hand down the front of your tight pants, his fingers rubbing against your clit. The smile he had when he felt how wet you already were… You could’ve _killed_ him. You wanted to say something smart but all that came out were moans. He suddenly pulled his hand out and walked away from you, licking his fingers. 

"Race you there."

Ignoring the fact that you were now soaking, and all you could think about was getting his clothes off, you tried to get the last word in. “I'm not sure I feel comfortable racing a man your age."

"Try to keep up." Steve took off running and you took off after him, the real workout starting in the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Bucky!!!  
> also, give me like one or two extra days because i'm going back to school next week and college wants to kill all of us


	8. The Only Ten I See (Bucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's like a fluff montage! no, really, it's written like a montage  
> bucky + bad pick-up lines + hilarity

 

> _Bucky and the reader competing in giving the worst and chessiest pick-up lines only to end up laughing so hard their sides hurt._

* * *

 

It all started with breakfast. When Bucky sat down at the table with you, said “Good morning” as he always did, and you replied with:

“Good morning indeed, sugar, are you from Tennessee? 'Cause you're the only ten I see.”

Bucky nearly choked on his orange juice. You giggled and wiped his mouth with your napkin. “ _Why_?”

“Is your name wifi? 'Cause I'm feeling a connection.”

The fact that Bucky was laughing instead of rolling his eyes made your heart swell. “Baby, your body is 65% water and I'm thirsty.”

You gasped. “Nice.”

He kissed you on the cheek. “Don't try to out-do the master.”

“Um, boy, you are not the master. I've been throwing out bad pick-up lines since Justin Timberlake had cornrows, like, you need to get on my level.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, baby.”

He turned on the old Brooklyn boy charm. “Your lips look so lonely, do they wanna meet mine?”

You smiled and kissed him. “Good thing you can't make it through a metal detector or else they'd find your heart of gold.”

Bucky threw his head back in laughter. “Damn!”

“See? Master of bad pick-up lines.”

“I'll think of something, doll, you're not the winner yet.”

“Yet.”

* * *

You went out for a run with Bucky, Sam, and Steve. You and Sam stretched while Bucky told Steve about the little competition you two had going. You shook your head.

“He thinks he's gon win and I don't know how to break it to him that he isn't,” you told Sam. “If he wasn't so cute I'd just tell him.”

Sam laughed. “Y'all just invent ways to be weird together, it's really cute.”

“Gotta keep things spicy.” Bucky walked over and you smiled. “Let me hear it.”

He cleared his throat. “Smoking is hazardous to your health and, baby, you are _killing_ me!”

Sam rolled his eyes and you put your hands on your hips and tried thinking of something better. Bucky was good, but you had tricks up your sleeve. You always did. One of the reasons he fell in love with you was the fact that you always surprised him, and always seemed to become more amazing each day.

“I’m fighting the urge to make you the happiest man on earth tonight.”

He bit his lip. “That one wasn't even bad.”

“My love for you is like diarrhea, I just can't hold it in.”

He nodded. “I'm impressed, beautiful.”

“So I win, right?”

“Nope! Are you African? Because you're A-frican babe.”

You couldn't even hold it together for that one, it was so bad. Bucky was clearly not going down without a fight. “Oh, I'll get you.”

* * *

“No wonder the sky is grey today, all the blue is in your eyes.” You said as you showered together.

He paused while lathering your brown skin to laugh. He pulled you tight to him and kissed behind your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

He started laughing again. “I may not be a genie, but I can make your wishes come true.”

“Fuck you!”

“Promise?”

* * *

He kissed up your spine, making you moan. Your back arched against him and, as he kissed your shoulders, you whispered, “Are you cold? You look like you could use some hot chocolate and here I am.”

He gripped your hips tighter, but you heard him chuckling. “Not now, baby...”

* * *

You were unbraiding your hair the next morning and Bucky was suiting up for a mission on the other side of the room. But you two were bouncing bad pick-up lines back and forth, pausing only to dissolve into laughter.

“If your heart's a prison, sentence me to life,” Bucky said.

“What time do you have to be back in heaven?”

“You spend so much time in my mind, I should charge you rent.”

“My lips are like Skittles, wanna taste the rainbow?”

“Didn't I see you on the cover of Vogue?”

You fluffed up your hair and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You gave him the same hug you always did when he went off for missions, to remind him that you were waiting right here for him to come back. “Have you always been this cute or did you have to work at it?”

He paused and you thought you'd won, until he turned around with a grin. “Wouldn't we look good on a wedding cake together?”

“Nice line.”

He held up a ring he'd been keeping in his pocket for ages. He'd always known it was you but never knew when to ask. “It wasn't a line.” You covered your mouth. “Last line before you declare me the winner; your ass is so nice that it's a shame you have to sit on it.”

You wiped the happy tears from your eyes and slipped the ring onto your finger. “Oh my God, Bucky…” You threw your arms around his neck and he spun you around. “If nothing lasts forever will you be my nothing?”

Bucky squeezed you tighter. “Alright, you win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Peter Parker


	9. You Got This (Peter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait, i've been super busy  
> peter + nervousness + cuteness

 

> _Would you be cool with writing a chubby dark-skinned reader x Peter Parker? It can be either one, new or old_

honestly this works for either one but i was thinking about tom holland when i wrote it, so it kinda has his energy

* * *

 Was there anything worse than presenting in front of the class? Nuclear war, maybe. At least that’s how you saw it.

You filtered through your flashcards like a machine, trying to commit every single detail to memory. One slip-up and you’d hear the snickering from the audience and deflate. Your mom said that was all in your head but you weren’t so sure.

Peter Parker sat next to you everyday, you had a suspicion that he knew you were nervous about this more than anything else in the class so far. If your constant pen-clicking wasn’t a hint, then the way you were picking at a bag of cereal on your desk definitely was.

“Hey, ________, you’re first today, right?” he asked you.

You nodded. You’d only spoken to Peter once or twice before, mostly for projects and the few times he’d murmur a joke to you when the teacher’s back was turned. You didn’t think he gave you much consideration at all beyond that. Why should he? People always told you how pretty you’d be a few pounds and skin tones lighter, and as much as you resisted with an extremely foreign sense of confidence, it was hard not to let those sentiments get to you.

“You’ll be fine,” Peter told you with a grin. “History’s your ‘thing’, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah, but… Everyone’s always laughing at me.”

“Don’t look at them, look at me. I won’t laugh unless you tell a joke.” You smiled at him and he gave you a reassuring thumbs up. “You got this.”

You took a deep breath and the bell finally rang. Your teacher looked at you and you nodded back at her to tell her you were ready, although you still weren’t too sure about that.

“Alright class, first presentation of the day, ____________. Please give her your full attention.”

There was a bit of giggling from the back, something was said about ‘you can’t miss her’. You looked at Peter and he grinned at you again. “You got this.”

You stood up and started delivering your presentation. Your voice cracked a bit from nervousness in the beginning but you soon found your rhythm, keeping your eyes on Peter and your teacher. You barely stumbled over words or lost control of your voice. There were no errors in your powerpoint. You actually had this, you almost couldn’t believe how well you did.

In the end, after taking questions, you sat back down next to Peter and he patted you on the back. “I told you, you had it.”

“You helped.”

“I’ll always help if you need me to.”

* * *

 The next day, you got your grades back. A perfect score! You couldn’t have been more excited, and there was one person you wanted to share the news with more than anyone else, but the seat next you was empty.

You finally saw Peter in the cafeteria and you waved for him to come over. He smiled and sat next you, eyeing your lunch. “Whatcha got there?”

“Nothing for you.”

He laughed. “That’s cold! Did you get your presentation grade back?”

You slid the paper over to him and his eyes lit up. “Great, ________, I’m happy for you!”

“Yeah, I wanted to show you this morning, but you weren’t there.”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck. He could see a kid reading an article about Spiderman apprehending a bank robber earlier that day across the aisle from them and he tried to think of an excuse. “I was hit by a bus.”

You gasped. “Hit by a bus?!”

He cringed. “Wait- Not a bus, _a bike_ . I was hit by _a bike_.”

“Are you okay?”

“I mean, yeah, I’m not injured or anything. Wait, are you worried?”

“Yeah, Peter.”

He smiled. “You’re worried about me?”

You giggled, not catching the tone in his voice. “Well, when you tell someone you got hit by a bike, that’s typically the reaction.”

Peter cleared his throat and took a pensive sip of his water. You ate lunch with one hand while working on math homework with the other. You were wearing a yellow dress that day, and he’d never seen you in yellow, but he couldn’t help but notice how pretty you were, especially with that color on your skin. He’d been meaning to talk to you, like, actually _talk to you_ forever but you always seemed so busy outside of the one class you shared.

“Hey, is that trig?” he asked you.

You groaned. “Yeah, and it’s super hard.”

“I’m pretty good at trig, um, could I help you with it later?”

You smiled. “Like a date?”

He blushed. “I, um, well- I mean, sorta, if that’s okay with you, of course.”

She nodded. “It sounds great. Your place or mine?”

“Mine.”

“Cool! Great!”

You kissed him on the cheek, and you didn’t think he could get any redder, but he proved you very wrong. “I’ll make sure you don’t get hit by anymore bikes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Vision


	10. The Changing of The Seasons (Vision)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vision + seasonal crazes + feelings + sam + a sick nasty two door cinema club reference in the chapter title  
> imma be real with y'all, i wrote this at 3 am two days ago and i kept on editing it but it still ain't perfect because i kept flipping between platonic and romantic endings. i went with platonic, it just felt like more fun

 

 

> _The reader accidentally getting Vision into seasonal crazes ( like Pumpkin Spice in the fall etc) and it becomes a fun thing they do together._

Real cozy shit

* * *

 

You walked into the common room of the Avengers facility with the biggest grin on your face and a round of coffee cups under your arms. You unraveled your scarf and unzipped your jacket. Your outfit was still chilly from the October air and you didn’t even grimace when you pulled an orange leaf from your curls.

The other Avengers smiled at you and greeted you with an almost unanimous, “Hey!”

“Someone went to Starbucks, I see.” Sam said.

You nodded. “I had to, when Bucky told me he never had a pumpkin spice latte before I lost my mind.” You gave Bucky the Starbucks cup and kissed him on the top of his head. "Happy Fall!" 

You handed a cup to Rhodey and he took it, reluctantly. When you handed Tony his cup, he smirked. “Do I get a kiss?”

You scrunched up your nose and shook your head. “This was for Bucky, let him have his moment.” He rolled his eyes. "Don't be mad."

“Pumpkin spice is overrated,” Rhodey said. “White people clearly don’t know that pumpkins are dollar store sweet potatoes.”

You laughed. “I’d kill a man for a sweet potato latte... Or Sam's sweet potatoes."

Sam smiled. "I'll whip some up for you."

You kissed him on the cheek, to which Tony responded with an offended expression. "Appreciate it."

You walked over to Vision, who smiled at you and you smiled back at him. You didn't play favorites with the Avengers, but the android was definitely up there. He was so kind to you when you first joined and you just kind of stuck together. “So is this a tradition of the changing seasons? Pumpkin spice?” he asked you.

You shook your head and handed him the cup. “Just Fall.”

You shouldn’t have been so tickled by his confusion, but it was so cute. “Do other seasons have flavors?”

You gave coffee to the rest of the team but kept the conversation going with Vision. “Yeah, Vizh, pumpkin spice in the fall, peppermint and apple in the winter, tropical fruits and coconuts in the summer… Not sure if there’s a spring flavor.”

“Hmm, Chocolate for Easter?” Steve suggested.

“Yeah, but what about the people who don’t celebrate Easter?” Wanda asked him.

You shrugged. “Spring always reminds me of pomegranate, like Persephone. You know the myth of Persephone, right?”

“He knows, but you're gonna tell him anyway because you can't help yourself.” Tony teased. You glared at him. “It’s true.”

"Hey, let ____________ be a nerd!" Sam exclaimed.

"Thanks Sam." You rolled your eyes. “Anyways, she’s the goddess of springtime and her fruit is the pomegranate. It makes sense.”

“Spring always makes me think of Rita’s.” Rhodey said. “Back in Philly the lines are a block long on the first day of spring.”

You hummed with excitement. “Pomegranates and water ice. Perfect weather, fresh rain, blooming plants... “

“Allergies.” Steve said.

“...Which aren’t _your_ problem anymore, Steve.”

“So, on the first day of winter we will get peppermint lattes?” Vision asked.

You smiled. “Yeah, sure, we’ll make it our thing. Every season, you and me will go drown in seasonal shit. Peppermints and Christmas lights and ugly sweaters in the winter. We’ll drink pomegranate tea and go to the park in the spring. Then, we’ll get mango smoothies and go to an amusement park in the summer. But I love Fall so much, I have to share the pumpkin love with everyone.”

“Sounds lovely to me, ___________”

* * *

**Two Months Later**

“Vizh! It’s perfect!” You exclaimed, running in from the kitchen. He’d just put on the hideous sweater you got him. You sat next to him at the table and handed him a steaming mug that smelled like sweet chocolate. “I’ve made the perfect batch of cocoa. Two kinds of chocolate, cinnamon, a pinch of vanilla and mint. It smells _so_ good, man. Taste it.”

He took a sip and nodded. “That’s delicious.”

You smiled. “I knew it. We’ve done everything now, we’ve made a gingerbread house, we’re playing Mariah Carey’s Christmas album, we’ve decorated the tree, we’ve watched terrible Christmas specials… And Home Alone…”

“We built a snowman in Central Park,” he reminded you.

“That’s right!”

“What else is there to do in the winter?”

You thought about it but, before you could come up with an answer, Redwing flew into the room carrying mistletoe. He hovered over your heads and you bit your lip.

“Damn it Sam…” You whispered.

“Actually, it’s Sam and Steve,” Steve said. “But it was Sam’s idea if you’re gonna be mad about it.”

You looked up at the mistletoe and back at Vision. “We’re supposed to kiss now.”

Vision's brows knit together. “Really?”

“I’ll make it painless,” you said with a giggle.

The moment did manage to make you a little nervous. You’d always seen Vision as nothing more than a good friend, but Sam and Bucky weren’t going away, so you had to do something.

You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, lingering there for a moment. He kissed you back, gently, trying to figure out how the whole thing worked. He put a gentle hand on your arm. You both tasted like chocolate and mint.

You pulled away and cleared your throat. “We did it.” You heard cheering and you glared at Redwing. “I’m gonna kill both of you.”

"It was Sam's idea!" Steve reminded you. 

Redwing flew away and you were left alone with Vision. He grinned at you. “That wasn’t bad at all.”

“No, it wasn’t, but don't get any ideas."

He scoffed. "Ideas of what?"

" _Ideas_ , Vizh."

* * *

**Three Months Later**

The first day of Spring that year brought many gifts, most notably seeing Vision in pastels. For some reason you thought putting your hat on his head would enhance the look. It didn't, but it definitely entertained you. He sipped his pomegranate juice and you took a few pictures for Instagram. You decided to tag Sam in it since he seemed so upset by the fact that his mistletoe plan didn't make you two anything more than friends. Well, that's what you thought he was upset about.

You took a bite of the soft pretzel in your hand and enjoyed the breeze that floated under your sundress. "Y'know, Vizh, I've always wondered how you see things."

"What do you mean?"

"You're so 'young', but you have so much power and information inside of you. Does it take away from the beauty of everything if you're seeing it through the binary?"

He shook his head. "I see the world as beautifully as you do, ________"

You grinned. "How do you see Wanda?"

The question clearly caught him off-guard because it took him a moment to respond. "She's... beautiful... But so are you!"

"Don't try to save yourself now."

"Well, if you're curious about how I view Miss. Maximoff, I'm rather curious about how you see Mr. Wilson."

You almost choked. "Sam's sweet."

"Sure."

"And he thinks I like you."

"Right. And he likes you."

"What? That's ridic-" You stopped yourself because, the more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Sam was acting kind of weird since he saw you kiss Vision, and it wasn't like _you_ never thought about _him_ before. "... But he's always asking me what makes me happy... And he makes me smile constantly... And he _did_ get me the best Christmas gift..."

"Perhaps his matchmaking is just him thinking you don't return his feelings, which you do."

You put your hand over your heart. Did you really have feelings for Sam or was it spring fever and Vision's suggestion trying to trap you? "I invite you celebrate spring with me and you make me think about having feelings for Sam Wilson, why?"

Vision sighed. "Seasons change so quickly, for you humans especially. You have to do something in between that matters to you."

You nodded. "Deep." You held your phone in your hands, it buzzed to notify you that Sam liked your Instagram post. You let out a groan. "This is something I'm gonna have to deal with, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid so. Preferably, before the first day of summer."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: my boi Buck B  
> y'all really love Bucky, I must say lol  
> same


	11. A Good Night (Bucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's porn with some plot and here's the song i mention in the chapter (https://youtu.be/YwF4lwP7__s) and goodnight

> _can u write a smutty fic where i throw a house/apartment party and everybody's dancing and stuff and bucky makes lil sexual hints towards me all night and then he eventually stays to help "clean" but we just end up having sex? btw i have super curly hair so if u could add that too that'd be great! thanks girl_

sorry this got so extra

* * *

 

The night was absolutely lit. You invited your civilian friends, your Avengers friends, and your Defenders friends to a nice little house party. You knew those superheroes hadn’t just chilled in God knows how long. Tonight they could just let go, get a little alcohol into their systems, and dance. 

There was one person you were a little surprised to see there, and that was Bucky. You’d been training to become an Avenger for months, and you got to know Bucky better than most people did, you  _ really  _ liked him. Once he felt comfortable, he was such a sweetheart, and he had a great dry sense of humor that always had you in tears. 

He always seemed so invested in how you were feeling, checking in on you when he knew you were having a bad day. You’d make him your “world famous” brownies for the long strings of days he’d go without talking to anyone, and he was always so grateful, sometimes you’d see tears in his eyes. Him being hot didn’t hurt either, and the fact that he was basically your training partner often led to you two being in rather compromising positions often. You didn't mind, and your body certainly didn't mind. You’d been circling each other for a long time while this invisible tension seemed to dance around you, going completely unnoticed by everyone else.

When you were making the guest list for the party you immediately knew inviting Bucky could possibly raise some issues. He wasn’t a huge fan of parties and loud noises, and he couldn’t exactly get drunk and forget about that. So, you told him he didn’t have to come, but you wanted him to at least have an invite, because he was your friend and this party was for your friends. He seemed touched that you even thought about inviting him, but you weren’t holding your breath. When he walked in with Sam, you couldn’t have been happier to see anyone.

He’d managed to find his way back to you multiple times throughout the night. You knew he was just uncomfortable and you were a familiar face, but there was something about him tonight you couldn’t put your finger on, and it wasn’t just the alcohol telling you this. That invisible tension between you seemed amplified all of a sudden...

“I’ve never seen Steve dance before and part of me wishes that I could unsee it,” you told him. He laughed so hard he almost spat out his drink. “Was it always this bad?”

“If you put on some Sinatra, he’d be a pro.” He looked at your outfit for what felt like the millionth time that night. That dress was hugging you in all the right places and showing everything it needed to show. The curls were cooperating, your face was beat, and you even smelled sexy. “Have you always had that dress?”

You grinned. “Why you askin’?”

“I’ve just never seen you in a dress before.”

You let out a small laugh. “I can’t exactly wear a dress in training, Bucky. Not with the way your ass be tossing me around.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be sorry, I like it when you make me work hard.” You realized how unintentionally sexual that sounded when you saw the expression on Bucky’s face go from amused to intrigued.  “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“No clue what you mean,” he replied, knowing damn well what you meant. 

You cleared your throat and picked up your empty glass. “Imma be right back.”

You walked back to the kitchen and poured yourself some more punch. You noticed your best friend Janelle throwing it back to Missy Elliot and just shook your head. Then she came into the kitchen with you.

“Bitch, why aren’t you dancing?!” she asked you.

You crossed your arms. “Please tell me you didn’t just grind on Steve Rogers in the middle of my apartment. I have to look him in the eyes on Monday.”

She just laughed and kept dancing around. “Girl, once that liquor hits me, there’s no telling what I’ll do.”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip of your drink. One of your other friends, Michael, wandered into the kitchen, looking like he just got the hottest tea of the night. “So what’s with you and the white dude with the arm, huh? Y’all been talking all night, I seen you smiling at him and laughing at his jokes, boo, don’t front!”

“You don’t know who that is?!” Janelle asked him. “That’s Bucky Barnes, that’s Cap’s friend, the one ____________ always be talking about and then acting like she don’t be talking about.”

You were too tired to deny it. “Is it that obvious?”

Your friends nodded and Janelle fluffed your hair. “Y’all are cute together, you got a good look. You’re always talking about how sweet he is to you, isn’t that enough?”

“He’s my teammate and he’s been through a lot, like... I don’t know. What if I hurt him?”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “Maybe you both need this. An orgasm is a temporary fix, but a fix nonetheless.”

You looked at your giggly drunk friends and shook your head. “Why are y’all like this?”

You looked over at Bucky. The song switched from Missy to something a little slower, a little more eclectic. It got you in the mood to dance, and you knew exactly who you wanted to dance with, but would you have the guts to actually ask him?

_ You ain’t alone, so why you lonely? _

“Go get your blessings!” Michael exclaimed.

He pushed you forward and you almost tripped before making it back to where Bucky was sitting, but you didn’t sit down, you kept swiveling your hips, watching him watch you.

“I take it you don’t dance,” you said over the music.

He shook his head. “Not much since the forties, no.”

You held out your hand to him. “I don’t want you sitting alone over here all night, but I also wanna dance, don’t make me choose.” He looked at your hand, then your hips, then your face. You leaned down a little. “Please, Barnes?”

He didn’t have the heart to say no to you and, the truth was, he’d been wanting to dance with you too. He stood up and took your hand and you led him to the middle of the floor. You looked back at him to make sure he was still comfortable, but he was only looking at you, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip. 

_ Are you scared to wear your heart out on your sleeve? Are you scared of me? _

At first you were dancing with some friendly distance between you, but soon you found yourself drawn closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he put his hands on your waist and you swayed to the music together. 

You smiled and he twirled you around, pulling you closer again. He kept one hand on your waist and took your hand into the metal one. “So smooth, Mr. Hasn’t-Danced-Much-Since-The-Forties.”

“This is all muscle memory, sweetheart.” He dipped you and brought you back up with a laugh.

“You clean up nicely, Bucky.”

He shrugged. “As opposed to how good you always look.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t always look good.”

Bucky scoffed. “You kiddin’ me? Everyone always stares at you. We can’t even walk down the street without people undressing you with their eyes.”

“I haven’t noticed...” You looked up at him and had to force the words from her mouth.  _ Go get your blessings. _ “Do you stare too, Bucky?”

He smirked. “Am I gonna get in trouble if I say that I do?”

You shook your head. “You might end up liking the trouble.”

He was surprised by the line but he came up with a quick response. “_________, you’re not trouble.” He looked at your lips like he was burning to kiss you, right there in front of everyone, but it wasn’t the place, it wasn’t the time. All he could do was keep the conversation going. “I could show you trouble.” 

You felt the heat rise in your face and song faded out. Sam was calling Bucky over to where he was talking to Luke and Misty and Bucky told him he’d be right over, then turned back to you. 

“You and me aren’t done talking, alright?”

Your hand brushed his arm and he felt a chill run down his spine. “Do you wanna stay after?” you asked. “To help me clean up?”

He smiled. “Oh, doll, I’d love to.” He winked at you before going to join Sam. You smiled excitedly and started dancing with Janelle.

* * *

 

The party went on for another hour, the tension between you and Bucky was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You couldn't keep your eyes off each other, and time was dragging by agonizingly slow. The last guest left after helping out with clean up for a bit, and now you and Bucky were alone.

He was collecting all the cups that'd been left behind, working diligently at it. While he wasn't looking, you pulled the skirt of your dress up a little so that every time you bent over he'd get a peek of your panties. When the living room was mostly clean and you moved all the furniture back, Bucky got a glass of water and sat on the couch, watching you move everything and draw the curtains closed. 

“It was sweet of you to help me clean up.” You told him. 

“You know I'd do anything for you.” 

You turned to him and reached for the zipper at the back of your dress, slowly pulling it down. “I know, Bucky.” You let the dress fall to the ground and he stared at you slack jawed, like he didn’t know where to start. You walked over to him and straddled his lap. “You still think I’m not trouble?”

His hands travelled up your thighs, gripping your ass, and pulling you closer to the bulge in his jeans. “This body is trouble, but you aren’t.” 

You leaned down and captured his lips in a hungry kiss. It was returned with twice as much force, twice as much need. The contrasting temperatures of his hands on your skin drove you crazy. He tasted like wine and that was getting you drunk.

He pulled away from your lips and kissed the brown skin from your stomach to the valley between your breasts, keeping eye contact with you the whole time, before unhooking your bra and throwing it to the floor. He rested his head against your chest, planting small kisses before dragging his mouth over to one of your nipples, teasing it with his tongue and then sucking. 

You ran your fingers through his hair and moaned softly. While he worked on worshipping you, you tried grinding against his hard member, he groaned against your skin and pulled his mouth away.

“Shit, ________, let me take care of you first.”

“You’re still fully clothed, this isn’t fair.”

“I’m sorry, let me fix that.”

He laid you down on the couch and quickly undressed. If Bucky had any body insecurities he didn’t now, the look on your face was enough to give him an ego. You thought everything was beautiful, his body wasn’t made of slim muscle like Steve’s, he was bulkier, dare you say, beefier. You’d seen those muscles through tight, sweaty shirts before, but this was something entirely new. And you were sure the serum did wonders to his dick but you liked to think that it was always that big. The warm lights in the room cast a shadow on him that had you even more hot and bothered than before. 

But Bucky couldn’t get over how beautiful  _ you _ were and, even in the heat of the moment, his eyes seemed so soft on you. “You are too beautiful.” 

You smiled from ear to ear. “You promised trouble and right now all I’m hearing is the usual Bucky sweetness.”

He slid down your panties, trying his damndest not to just rip them off, not this time. “We’re just getting started.” He crawled between your legs and held his flesh and blood fingers up to your lips. “Do me a favor and suck, sweetheart.”

You took his fingers into your mouth, treating it like a performance while you got his fingers as wet as possible.

His jaw clenched. “Maybe you  _ are _ trouble.”

He took his fingers out of your mouth and rubbed the heat pooling between your legs. He circled your entrance, brushing your clit with his palm as he watched you become overcome with pleasure. Bucky’s eyes would be the death of you, boring into you, making sure you were coming undone.

But you wanted more, and you lifted your hips up to let him know it. “Stop teasing.”

“You walked around in that dress all night and you wanna tell me to stop teasing? That’s not how this works.”

“Please, come on…”

He slowly pushed two fingers inside of you, and you almost screamed at the feeling of something finally filling you, even if it wasn’t what you wanted. He used torturously slow strokes of his fingers, curling them occasionally once he found your good spot. 

You gripped the side of the couch and threw your head back. “Bucky, Bucky, please…”

“Be more specific, sweetheart.”

“Fuck me, Bucky. I want you inside of me, I’ve wanted it this whole fucking night.”

He grinned and kissed your neck. “Whatever you want, _______…” 

He pulled his fingers out of you and reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a condom. You helped him roll it on and he pulled your thighs around his waist, putting you in the same position you started with. You straddling him and him looking at you like wanted to devour you. 

“I think I like you this way,” he said. You kissed him and he smiled against your lips, lifting you up with one arm and lining himself up at your entrance with the other. “You ready, dollface?”

You could already feel his tip starting to stretch you, you released a breath of anticipation and nodded your head. Then he lowered you down on him. You buried your face in his neck as he filled you. He smelled like leather, metal, and aftershave, always. When you were sparring he always smelled like leather, metal, and aftershave. 

“God, fuck…” He gave you a moment to adjust, then thrust himself in further, filling you completely. He whispered something that sounded like Russian, then he whispered, “Wow, doll, you’re perfect…”

He grabbed your face and kissed you as he started moving in you. The rhythm was like the song you danced to, gentle and tender at first. You moaned into his mouth between kisses, louder and louder as he found a quicker pace. You rolled your hips against his thrusts, trying to make him work harder, and he always responded the way you wanted him to, by going faster, plunging into you deeper. The hand holding your face moved to grip your throat as he became more focused. You could hear the sound of your ass smacking against his thighs with every hard thrust. You both became more vocal. He whispered more dirty things to you and his name spilled from your lips every time you came together. 

He reached down and started rubbing your clit. You could feel yourself reaching the edge, and he was close too. The hand that wrapped around your throat found itself at the back of your neck. 

“Fuck, Bucky, I can feel it…”

He was working so hard his pants turned to grunts, and that was only bringing you closer. “Me too…  _ Shit! _ Cum for me, sweetheart, I wanna see that perfect face…”

With one last cry of his name, you came. Your eyes rolled back and he held you tight as he came tumbling after, spilling every last drop of him into you. 

In your haze, you stayed exactly as you were. You kissed him lazily as you came to your senses. He caught his breath and let his head rest on the couch. “Holy shit…”

“I know.”

“Honestly, _______, I wasn’t expecting any of this to happen tonight.”

He helped you off of him but didn’t pull you from his lap. His words were exactly what you were afraid of going into this, you didn’t wanna take advantage of him.  “Do you regret it?”

“Fuck no,” he replied with a smile. “I’m just happy I finally worked up the courage to say something to you. I never thought I was good enough for you.”

You held his face in your hands. “I was afraid of hurting you.”

He kissed you softly and hugged you. “You couldn’t hurt me, doll. You’re too cute to hurt anyone.”

You pouted at your new boyfriend as he peppered your face with kisses  and stood up, walking you to your room. “I am not.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Wait, our clothes are on the floor.”

“We’ll get ‘em tomorrow morning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Ayo!!!!!! ("Move or be moved" sista)


	12. Something About You (Ayo)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so short, so so short, i'm sorry to the person who requested it!! but i wanted to have something out, so i hope it's good at least. i love you guys, thanks for your patience. school and life got in the way, but y'all give me life and i'll keep trying to give you life!!!

 

> _First off, bless you for starting off the self-inserts & I'm looking forward to ALL of them. idk if anyone else requested this, but I want one with the amazing woman who said 'move or you will be moved'. Just one where we grab coffee (or she carries me off into the sunset because DAMN). I have beautiful dark skin, red/black braids, & glasses. Thank you again & KEEP BEING AMAZING _

* * *

 

_Tap da dap dap dap dap, tap da dap tap da dap dap dap dap…_

The minutes seemed to fly by faster as you tapped Jidenna’s ‘Knickers’ onto the tabletop for what had to have been the fifteenth time in a row. You figured someone would have to have caught up to you by now and started singing along or plotting your murder. With the hand that wasn't occupied, you swept your braids over your shoulder and continued scrolling through your Tumblr dash mindlessly. You reblogged things without thinking and without abandon.

Who knew a Starbucks could feel like purgatory?

Your friend called you an hour ago telling you they'd meet you there, and so far that looked like a broken promise. You had half a mind to leave if it weren't for your own perpetual lateness.

So now you were just sitting here alone, you'd finished your coffee minutes ago, and the indie songs playing from speakers were all beginning to blend into one another.

Then a woman walked in, dressed in black, with an important looking man behind her. She looked over the crowd with a steel gaze finding your inquisitive eyes for a lingering moment before leading what you assumed to be her boss to the front of the store.

Around you, there were a few murmurs of the word 'King’ that you barely paid attention to, because you'd never seen a hotter woman in your life. Like her boss was good looking too, but she was _ridiculous_.

She sat down behind you after her boss ordered and went to the bathroom. You found yourself, in that moment, unable to locate some chill.

You turned around and she raised an eyebrow. “So, are you…. A bodyguard?”

She nodded. “Dora Milaje.”

 _God, even her accent is hot…_ “Dora Milaje, what does that mean?”

“I am of the elite guard for Prince T’Challa.”

Your jaw dropped. “Like… Wakanda?”

“Yes.”

“You're Wakandan? Wow, I heard the women there were beautiful but-”

“Ayo!” The barista called out.

The woman got up and retrieved her coffee. She turned to you again and grinned. “I shouldn't be accepting compliments during my work.”

“Well, when aren't you working?” You asked, suddenly becoming a Prince song. Smooth and quick-witted. You had to milk the moment while it lasted.

“I will only be here for two nights,” she said. Her boss walked out of the bathroom. Suddenly, she started to rush. “Meet me outside of here? Tonight at 8?”

“Of course.”

T’Challa looked between you and smirked, taking the coffee. “Ayo, we must be going.”

“Yes, your highness.”

She winked at you as she walked away, returning to that steel gaze. You put your hand over your heart and wondered how you were still breathing.

The friend you'd been waiting for finally showed up, apologising all the way to your table.

“I got hung up at work and they wouldn't let me leave, I feel shitty.”

“It's fine, I got a date.”

Your friend smiled. “You got a date and I got like five paper cuts on one thumb, that's karma. What she look like?”

You reclined backwards as if getting that date was the easiest thing you'd ever done. “Hot, tall, athletic, dark skinned…”

“Ah, your only weaknesses. When's the date?”

“Tonight at 8.”

Your friend nodded. “Slick! Wait, was she dressed in a black dress?”

“Yeah, had a prince with her.”

“Nice!”

“I _know_!”

* * *

 

You made it back to the Starbucks that night, bouncing excitedly on your heels. You’d been thinking about the date since that afternoon, worrying about saying something stupid and ruining your once chance with someone so ethereal. It's a miracle you got the date in the first place

You spotted Ayo across the street and smiled at her, she smiled back at you and hastily crossed.

“You're on time!” You said. “Like, exactly on the minute.”

“I wouldn't want to be late for an evening with such a gorgeous woman,” she replied.

You giggled nervously. “Oh my God, okay!” _Carry my dead ass off into the sunset_. “Do you wanna grab coffee or go to a restaurant?”

“A restaurant, I haven't eaten much all day, and something tells me I'll be needing the energy tonight.” She took your hand, your face bore a flustered expression. “Where do we go first?”

You threw out the name of the first not-garbage restaurant you could think of and she agreed. But before you went anywhere, you stopped her. “Do you usually go out with girls in the cities you have business in?”

“I don't usually look at girls in the cities I do business in.” She licked her lips and you turned to stone. “It must be something about _you_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Deadpool!!


	13. The Merc With A (Heart) Mouth (Deadpool)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FUCKING LOVE WADE WILSON, THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN!!!

 

> _The reader having a bad day and Wade Wilson giving them a genuine pick-me-up but makes her promise not to tell anybody because you can’t have folks finding out the Merc With A Mouth is occasionally a big softie._

* * *

 

You were unsurprised to walk into your apartment complex and hear a fight going on, even less surprised when it was on your floor. You were too tired to care. Your shifts at the bar always felt like they dragged on for eons without any sign of an end. At least you got some good tips that night, but you assumed it was because you’d decided to show cleavage for once.

The fight was at the end of the hall. _Great, right by my place. Because this night just can’t be normal and relaxing…_

You pulled out your blade just in case, and walked quietly to your door, only for the the one across from yours to be broken from it’s hinges. You jumped and turned around with your blade ready, only to be face to face, or face to mask, with someone you knew too well, standing over her obviously dead neighbor.

You cocked your head to the side and lowered your knife. “Deadpool?”

“_____________? You live here?”

Wade Wilson was a pretty regular patron of your bar when he was in New York. He was friendly enough to you and, while his mouth moved quicker than his mind, he was a gentleman compared to so many of the other men you saw every night. You never thought you'd see him in your building, though. Especially after killing your neighbor.

“Yeah, should I be moving soon?”

He shook his head. “No, I’ve got this baby covered.” He leaned down and smacked the neighbor gently on his cheek. “Fuck, I had one last one-liner…”

“What’d he do?”

Wade shrugged. “Stole some money from a guy who knows a guy who knows lil ole me. I was paid too well to ask questions, y’know?” He carried the body into the apartment and picked up the door, setting it down outside of the doorway. “Were your titties always that nice or am I riding on a murder high?”

You sucked your teeth. “Goodnight, Wade.”

“Wait, wait, wait…” he said, turning you around. “I was almost too entranced by your push up bra to notice your sadness. Why are you sad? Who did it?”

You yawned. “The world did it, Wade. I just wanna go to bed and shut down for a while.” You lazily pushed your key into the lock and opened the door. “It’s not a push up bra, by the way.”

“Of course!”

Before you could close the door on him, he walked right in. “I didn’t know we were this tight.”

“Don’t look like that and say the word ‘tight’ around me. You once served me the best glass of water I’d ever had, we’re practically married. Now tell me why your face is sad. I’m not leaving until you do.”

He sat with his legs crossed on your couch. “Uh-uh, are you getting blood on my couch?”

He shook his head. “It was a clean job. Surprisingly so. Could’ve been bloodier, but I’m not a time traveler. Not yet, at least. Tell me why you’re sad, ____________.”

You sat next to him and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding deep in your chest. “I’m having a bad mental health day.”

“I’m having a bad mental health life, tell me what ails you, hot stuff.”

“I feel like… I’m _stuck_.” you told him. “I feel like I haven’t progressed in years, like I’m gonna be bartending until I’m old and half-crazy.”

“I’d pay to see an old, half-crazy bartender.”

You grinned, but the grin quickly faded. “I just don’t want the rest of my life to be… this.”

Wade nodded and sighed. “You wanna see something worse than how you’re feeling?”

“I doubt that thing exists.”

He lifted up his mask to his eyebrows and winked at you, only to be surprised when you didn’t flinch or recoil in disgust. “Wow, tough crowd.”

You raised an eyebrow. “It’s your face? That’s the thing you wanted to show me?”

“Yeah, y’know? I show you my ugly unlovable mug, you feel better about yourself in comparison. It's this fun dance I do.”

“That would be really horrible of me, wouldn’t it?”

He looked away from you and pulled the mask back over his face. “Works for everyone else...” He took a deep breath. “Look, I used to be a sex god. A white Shemar Moore.”

You scoffed. “Okay, Wade…”

“Let me give you a pep talk, or so help me God, I will show you my scarred ass, it’s worse than my face.”

“Again, doubt it. Keep talking.”

“When I first got this face, I thought I’d hate it forever, and I do, I also hate myself…”

“Where is this going?”

“___________, you’re hot as hell. Possibly hotter because I’m not sure how hot hell is. I could always shoot myself real quick, then come back and tell you, but I don’t think you’d be down for that and, honestly, I hate fixing this mask-”

“Wade!”

“Right. You’re presumably hot as hell. You’re nice. I’m sure you have some skill outside of bartending…” When you didn’t answer right away, his face fell. “Do you?”

You finally nodded. “I write poetry.”

He gasped. “A poet! That’s why you live like a 19th century vagabond. It all makes fucking sense now. You can do that! You can write a poem about me and put it in a book! How many poems have you written, huh?”

“My whole life? At least a thousand.”

She could see his jaw drop through the mask. “Oh my God… You’re fucking Maya Angelou. Well, not _fucking_ Maya Angelou… Wow, it’s gonna be hard not to think about that later tonight.”

“You really think people are gonna like my poetry?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, but I will. ‘Cause it’s yours and everything, and you’re nice to me. So that’s one fan, ready to go. You just need at least three more.”

You chuckled. “Thanks Wade.”

“For what? I was never here.” You rolled your eyes and his brows knit together. "I'm serious. Never here. I have several reputations to uphold, ________. I'm a respected man in my line of work."

"You mean murder for hire?"

"Yeah, it's a line of work, I get paid. Don't you judge me!"

"I'm not judging you." You kissed him on the cheek and he melted into the couch. "Be safe, alright?"

Flustered completely, he tried making his brain send words to his mouth. "Ican'tdiiieeee...." He stood up and fanned himself. “Holy fucking cocks, it suddenly turned into a sauna. Are you hot?”

“Goodnight, Wade.”

He walked to your door and leaned his forehead on it. “Oh my God… Oh my God, I want you.”

“You were just leaving.”

He walked outside. “Yeah, yeah, I heard you, ‘Goodnight, Wade’...” He closed the door. “Shit, you’re amazing.”

You smiled, feeling significantly better, and the next time Wade popped up at the bar, you were ready with free drinks and a poem just for him (because fuck his "reputation").

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Bucky/T'Challa, at the same time, at once, together


	14. Happy Birthday (T'Challa and Bucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BEEN A MINUTE BUT I'M HERE  
> life (and nanowrimo and school) got in the way but i'm here  
> and i brought a teeeennnnssssyyyy bit o' smut if you're into that sort of thing  
> twas a labor, but a labor of love (but mostly a labor because i have no clue what i'm doing in this chapter)

this was a long request but i think it speaks for itself so.... enjoy

* * *

 

You and T’Challa were the Barbie and Ken couple of The Avengers. Beautiful. Affectionate. Made for each other. “Annoying”, as Tony so eloquently put it. You'd been together so long that you could barely recall a time where you weren't.

And dating a king had it's perks. He was always eager to please you. He was more than willing to pull strings to make you happy. You would tell him he didn't have to, but it felt good when he did. It felt good to be with someone who loved you so much that they were determined to make all of your time together so positive and happy.

After a long night, you were nestled on his bare chest, tracing your fingers over the lines of his muscles and humming blissfully. You were both exhausted, and drifting in and out of sleep, but that was always when you had your best conversations. He stared up at the ceiling wondering if this could get any better.

“You never fail to impress me, my love,” he told you.

You smiled and looked up at him. “I should say the same about you.”

He shook his head. If you were any more beautiful, he’d swear that he’d dreamt you up. “If you could have one fantasy fulfilled, what would it be?”

“A restaurant that only sells cookie dough.”

He laughed that deep laugh that you loved so much. “You know what I mean, come on.”

You thought about it, shifting so that you were laying on your side. With a boyfriend who looked like T’Challa, of course you had fantasies. You would find yourself drifting off sometimes, thinking about him doing things to you that you'd never dream of sharing with anyone. Usually if you expressed something to him, he'd be more than happy to oblige, but there were things you kept to yourself.

You laughed at your own idea before sharing it. “I've always thought about being in an elevator with you, and it stalling, and us having to find a way to make the time pass quicker…”

He smirked. “Are we always the only ones there?”

You bit your lip. “...No.”

“Who else?”

You covered your face. “You're gonna laugh at me.”

T'Challa shook his head and held your head up. “I'm serious, tell me. Indulge in my curiosity this once, my love.”

You weren't sure if he could tell how hot your cheeks were, but you answered anyway. “Bucky.”

He raised an eyebrow. “If you had to choose a second partner, you would choose Bucky.”

“Yes.”

“Hmm…”

“I know it's ridiculous, but I see him in training sometimes and he's… _sexy_ , baby. Like, sexy for a white boy.”

“It's not ridiculous, I wanted to know.” He kissed the top of your head and let out a deep breath. “Goodnight, _________. I love you.”

“I love you more.” You fell asleep and didn't give a single word of that conversation any serious thought.

 

About two months passed and your birthday arrived. You always had a habit of waking up earlier than usual on your birthday, and you didn’t think that anyone else was awake, so you went out for your usual morning run. Bucky was out running, too, so he joined you and walked with you back to the facility.

There was still a bit of adrenaline running through your veins, and you tried calming yourself and your muscles down but you felt wired.

You pushed the button for the elevator and poked Bucky in his side. “We should run together more often, you're way more fun than you give yourself credit for.”

Bucky chuckled and lifted his water bottle to his lips. “Thanks, I haven't been called fun in a while.”

“That’s because you pretend not to be.”

Bucky ran his fingers through his hair. “You doing anything for your birthday,________?”

You shook your head. “I might go out tonight, but I don’t know. Thanks for remembering.”

“We’ve known each other for a while now, I’d hope not to forget your birthday.”

You laughed dryly. “You’d be surprised. I have friends I’ve known for _years_ who don’t remember my birthday.”

The elevator came and you stepped inside. T’Challa was there, and he smiled when he saw you.

“Good morning, beautiful. Happy birthday.”

You kissed him. “Good morning, baby!” You turned back to Bucky. “I'm gonna head to the gym and try to use this extra energy, you?”

“The gym sounds good.”

“Where are you headed, baby?” you asked T’Challa.

“The lab.”

“I might stop by there after the gym, we could go g-” The elevator stopped and went completely dark. You sighed. _All the scientists working in this building, elevators shouldn’t be crashing…_ “F.R.I.D.A.Y. Status of the central elevator.”

“Elevator and elevator surveillance cameras temporarily disabled per request of T’Challa.”

You turned to your boyfriend. “Explain.”

You didn’t exactly expect T’Challa to look guilty, but the look on his face was dripping with mischief. It was the kind of look he always got when one of his plans came together. “Barnes and I had a talk…” he told you. “I told him what you told me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but you couldn’t fight the grin on your face. “Wait, this is really happening? You agreed to this, Bucky?”

Bucky moved closer to you and you tried not to faint from the sudden rise in temperature. “Yeah, sweetheart, why wouldn’t I?”

T’Challa turned your head and kissed you. You moaned against his lips and ran your fingers along the coarse stubble growing on his cheeks. Bucky started kissing along your shoulders, gently holding your hips. T’Challa smelled warm, like cocoa butter, while Bucky smelled something like mint. They were intoxicating together.

T’Challa let Bucky turn you around, and you started to kiss him while T’Challa took off your sports bra, which was the only thing covering the top half of your body. It instantly felt like strong hands were all over you, stripping you naked and exploring your skin. T’Challa’s back hit the wall but no one’s movements missed a beat.

Bucky pulled away from your lips and smiled. “God, you’re gorgeous…”

“Perfect…” T’Challa whispered, lightly tugging on your ear with his teeth to punctuate the word.

T’Challa’s rough hands tease your breasts, while Bucky’s start slipping under the waistline of your pants. You let out a sigh, feeling the cold air on freshly bared skin. You hooked a finger under the hem of Bucky’s shirt and pulled.

“I think she wants our clothes off, T’Challa,” he said into the crook of your neck.

You nodded and T’Challa grinned. “Do what the birthday girl wants.”

They finished undressing you first before taking off their own clothes. If you had any doubts about being sandwiched between two of the prettiest men on Earth, those doubts were instantly gone. If the arousal pooling between your legs was any indicator, you were having a very good birthday.

Bucky ran his metal hand down your sides, down your hips, and between your legs. The cold met the heat and you let out a whining moan, letting your head fall back so T’Challa could hold your chin up with one hand, and reach for your clit with the other.

“T’Challa, can I taste her?”

Your boyfriend turned your head to face him. “Would you like that, _sthandwa sam_?”

Somehow your brain was still managing to form words and you whimpered, “Yes.”

Bucky got on his knees and T’Challa kept teasing your clit. You placed your legs on Bucky’s shoulders and he licked a stripe up your wetness. You moaned loudly, so loudly that T’Challa covered your mouth in case passersby heard Bucky pleasuring you. Bucky licked and sucked at your folds, occasionally teasing your clit with a swirl of his tongue. You reached down and started stroking T’Challa’s hard member, and he rolled his fingers against your hypersensitive nipples.

“Fuck!” you moaned, only for it to be muffled by T’Challa’s hand. Your senses were overloaded. You couldn’t think, you could hardly keep your eyes from squeezing tight.

“Someone is urgently requesting the elevator.” F.R.I.D.A.Y said overhead.

T’Challa was moaning in your ear, he could feel himself twitching under your hand. “Well, that just means you’ll have to cum quicker.”

You looked down at Bucky, who was handling himself with his free hand, and he smirked at you, pushing your legs farther apart so that his tongue could go deeper, quicker, and be rougher. You squirmed between them, losing focus while you tried pleasuring T’Challa behind you because Bucky was eating you like you were his last meal in front.

You turned to T’Challa, meaning to thank him, but he captured your lips in a hot kiss before you could even think to speak. You could feel yourself getting closer, and see that T’Challa was, too. Bucky focused on your clit and you tried moving your hips against his face.

You came first. It felt like sparks of electricity ran through your body, warming you up and then cooling you. You felt pleasure from your head to the curling tips of your toes. Bucky came next, growling against your clit, the vibrations were enough to bring you over the edge again. Then T’Challa came, watching you, _always_ keeping his eyes on you.

You were spent. Tired from the run and from that little adventure. It took you a while to come to your senses. You didn’t even notice the boys quickly get dressed as the elevator began to move up without warning.

Once you realized what was going on, you quickly got dressed and sprayed perfume on yourself to mask the thick smell of sex. It wasn’t enough, and you knew that, but you weren’t sure if you cared.

“We should do this again,” you said.

T’Challa and Bucky looked at each other and shrugged. “It’s only the morning,” T’Challa said. "The day's still young."

"Yeah, well, Imma go take a nap."

The elevator arrived at the main floor, and Tony was waiting with his arms crossed. You, T’Challa, and Bucky were dressed but slightly disheveled, not to mention the mess you’d made on the floor that you were silently hoping no one would notice.

“I hate when technology acts like I didn’t design it specifically not to malfunction,” Tony said. “Are you three okay? Did the Bionic Man here have a panic attack?”

You all shook your heads. “No, we were fine,” Bucky said, quickly walking off.

“It was annoying but it’s over, see you Tony!” You kissed T’Challa. “Thank you, baby. I’ll see you later.”

He smiled at you. “Happy birthday, my dear.”

You both ran off in opposite directions and Tony rolled his eyes. “Kids…” He stepped into the elevator and in the distance you heard him shout, “Seriously?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Pre-Serum Steve! and i'm a big fan of this prompt  
> ALSO after the next chapter i am re-opening my tumblr inbox for prompts so try to think of something good!! according to my list we don't have any fics coming up for: wade, any of the girls, tony, pietro, clint, vision (i think), anyone from guardians of the galaxy (please don't force me to write groot or rocket porn, keep it to yourself), or anyone from the netflix shows including luke cage (except punisher, we do have punisher, i am reaaally hype about writing punisher)


	15. Love in the Shadows (Steve)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> teeny warning for this chapter: if you're not comfortable with like stories about racism, you're not gonna be too jazzed about this chapter. nothing violent happens, but it does describe discomfort and i know that can be fatiguing so... feel free to skip if you want  
> also i'm not sure how good this is because i just finished writing the worst paper in the history of papers and, y'all, i'm tired. but i wanted to get this up!  
> if you do decide to sit this one out, i'll tell you here that REQUESTS ARE NOW OPEN AGAIN! please feel free to send me requests at my blog captainafroelf.tumblr.com! remember, i don't take requests from the comments, i want all the requests in one spot (because i'm lazy and like when things are easy)  
> check the previous chapter for a list of characters that don't have requests yet if you want :))))))

> _ For brown sugar & honey, do you have a preserum Steve in the works? If not, can they have to sneak around since interracial relationships were looked down upon, but one day they either get tired of or get caught and they stop caring what people think _

* * *

 

You whistled along as Ella sang from the jukebox and you cleaned the diner tables until they were spotless. The other waitresses were slacking as usual, talking about their boyfriends and dinner dates as the night drew to a close. They had what felt like the longest conversation in the history of the world just about the colors of the dresses they would wear when their boys took them dancing. All you could do was whistle and hope to drown them out somehow. 

It wasn’t that you were bitter and single, quite the opposite. You’d been seeing a boy for a few months, Steve Rogers, and he was sweet as can be and treated you like a diamond. He made you feel beautiful and protected, there wasn’t much more you could ask for. 

You were just jealous of the fact that they went dancing, they went to dinner, they could walk down the street holding hands without having to put up their guard.

It wasn’t Steve’s fault, it wasn’t your fault either, it was just how things were. Negro girls didn’t have white boyfriends. 

Now clearly that was a de facto rule that had been broken many times over by loads of girls you knew, including all the ones that went out with Steve’s best friend. But those relationships had a tendency to be short-lived because no one could deal with the staring and the constant discomfort and threat of violence from people who couldn’t understand. Steve didn’t want to put you through that, and you didn’t want to go through it so you agreed to be together privately.

But you wanted to be able to show little Steve Rogers off and say that was the man you loved, and you could see it in his eyes that he wanted so desperately to tell the world how much he loved you, but he just couldn’t. It was just how things were. 

The diner conversation turned to you, the other waitresses knew you well enough to know you were seeing someone, they even knew he was white. Did they resent that? No. Did they judge you for it? A little.

“Where’s your little fella taking you this weekend, huh, _____________?” asked one, with a grin. “His place again?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, come on, you know why we have to keep going to his place!”

“Don’t you ever get tired of hiding?” asked one of the others. “He really loves you, you said he brings you flowers whenever he gets paid!”

You grinned. “He does…”

“You said he’s always telling you how beautiful you are and that friend of his likes you, too. Why can’t you just try it one night? Go out dancing! Get your naps together, put on a pretty dress, do something fun, then go home and give him good jelly.”

You took off your apron and hung it up while the girls exploded with laughter. “I’d love to go out dancing with Steve, but there’s so much risk involved.”

One of the waitresses took a break from laughing to notice that you were leaving the diner for the night. “Alright, hon, but you’ll get bored eventually.”

* * *

 

The next afternoon you got to Steve and Bucky’s apartment and Bucky answered while buttoning his shirt. The radio was playing some swing tune in the background. 

“Oh hey, sugar!” Bucky said. “‘Scuse me for being half-dressed, I’m gonna be late for work. The punk’s getting ready for ya in the bathroom.”

“It’s fine, Bucky. Ain’t this your second job?”

He nodded. “Second of the day, not exactly itchin’ for a third but rent’s high.”

“You’ll do alright, you two always do. Please tell me there’s no new bruises.” Bucky answered with a deep sigh. “Oh what was it this time?”

“It was what it always is, he can’t say no to a fight almost as much as he can’t say no to you.” Bucky smoothed down his hair and turned to you. “I need a dame’s opinion.”

You shook your head. “Too much gel.”

He pouted. “It’ll have to do. I’ll be seeing ya, __________.”

You giggled. “See ya, Buck!”

“See ya, Steve!” he shouted.

“Ya better get to work before your boss snaps his cap!” Steve shouted back.

“What’s the worst he could do? Fire me?”

“I woulda!”

Bucky shook his head and looked at you. “He’s a real piece of work, you could do better, you know that?”

You giggled and Steve walked out of the bathroom glaring at his friend. He had a dark bruise on his cheek that made you wince. “Bucky was just leaving.”

Bucky smiled. “Yes, he was. Have a good date, you two!”

When Bucky left, Steve pulled you close, twirling you along with the rhythm of the music. When he pulled you back to him, you pressed your forehead to his and kissed him, and he smiled like the happiest man in New York.

“You look pretty today, darling,” he told you. “Pretty as a picture.”

“And you, my blue-eyed handsome man, look better everyday.” You lifted his chin and kissed the bruise. “Care to explain?”

“Of course not, ___________.”

“You gotta stop getting into these fights, Stevie. You have me worried sick.”

He shook his head. “I can handle myself, I don’t need my best girl worrying about me.”

“You’re just lucky I’m never around to see,” you told him. “You can throw a punch but I can too.”

He chuckled. “You would fight for me, honey?”

“Of course I would. I’d do anything with you.”

He gave you that look, that look that made you feel like nothing else mattered but you two. The rest of the world could disappear as long as he kept looking at you like you put the stars up in the sky. 

You ruffled his hair and you two started swaying to the music again. But the more you danced, the more your thoughts started wandering. You two did practically the same thing on every date. Dancing in the kitchen and cooking together, then making gentle love as the sun set. It was sweet, but were the girls right? Were you actually bored?

“Steve?”

“Yeah.”

“If we could do anything tonight, anything at all, what would you want to do?”

He stopped moving and thought about it. “I’d take you to a jazz club, so we can go dancing in a room we don’t have to share with the smell of Bucky’s cologne. You could wear your prettiest dress and I’ll try my best to pretend that I should be with someone as beautiful as you.”

“You’re beautiful, Stevie.” You sighed. “What’s stopping us?”

“The last time we tried doing something like that, we were followed almost the entire way home. You were so scared that we agreed to stay home for a while.”

You cleared your throat and pulled away from him. This was going to sound crazy, at least it would in your head. “It’s been more than a while…”

“You wanna go out again?”

“Why not? What are we really afraid of? Steve, I’m tired of hiding how much I love you. Aren’t you tired of being scared?”

He nodded. “I am.”

“So, let’s go dancing tonight! I’m dolled up enough. We never have problems once we get there, it’s just getting there and getting back.” You took his hands. “It would be lotsa fun, just me and you, and we’ll dance to all the slow songs to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

He grinned at you. “Ya know what? Let’s do it! Let’s go dancing! If anyone gives ya grief, they’ll have to go through me.”

“No, they’ll have to go through us.” You kissed him and wiped the stain of lipstick from his lips. “Thank you, handsome.”

“Like I said, I’d do anything for you.”

* * *

 

You decided to wait until the sun started going down, then you and Steve joined hands and walked out onto the Brooklyn streets together. You were met with a few stares once people noticed your hands and your closeness. Of course you were uncomfortable, but you didn’t care. You were happy to be by each other’s side for everyone to see your love shining bright as the sun.  

After that night, you never retreated back into hiding. Nothing would force you back into the shadows. Not a thug. Not the stares. Not the war. Not the shield. Not the ice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Loki!


	16. Never Gonna Get It (Loki)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm a recovering loki stan using this (super short) chapter as therapy

> _If you're not already stuffed with characters and prompts, can you do a Loki one? Preferably with the reader not taking any of his crap? I feel like that's a bad plague within his fandom._

of course! no white boy villain shit-taking in my lobby!

* * *

 

You thought you were free from him. You assumed he’d forgotten about you. Hours before the Battle of New York had even begun, you saw him again. He found you, again. You pulled him inside only to keep the neighbors from seeing and making a fuss.

“Well, I didn’t expect such a welcome.”

You slapped him across the face. Loki, the god of mischief. The one- or three- night stand you could never quite shake off. He looked the same, if not slightly worn, and he was apparently still as conniving as he was then.

“Why the fuck are you here?”

“I am on Midgard for… business. However, I found you for pleasure.”

You laughed. “That’s sure as fuck not gonna happen.”

“______________, every time I’m on Midgard I think of you. Those nights were certainly-”

“Cute.”

“I’m also here to offer you a place in my army.”

You crossed your arms. “What army?”

“I’m forming an army to ensure that my plans for your chaotic realm come to pass. I want you by my side. There’s no one stronger, and no one I know quite as _intimately_.”

You nodded in understanding and squeezed the bridge of your nose. “So what was your plan, exactly?” you asked him. “Come in here, smooth talk your way into my bed, and somehow recruit me for whatever scheme you think you have? Why?”

“We both know about your abilities, dearest. Let’s not pretend.”

You glared at him. He was so pleased with himself and that only made you angrier somehow. “My...abilities are a secret, a secret I only reveal if it means saving another person’s life. But something tells me that saving lives isn’t exactly your end goal, so if you want a fucking fist you can either get it somewhere else or get it through your Asgardian teeth.”

“I’m saving Midgard from ruination at it’s own hands. You humans are so destructive, you are begging… _aching_ … to be ruled.”

“I won’t be your tool for reinstating slavery, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh, but you could be my queen. Imagine how ravishing you would look with a crown atop your head, adorned in gold. We would rule the entirety of Midgard together, then we return home and do as we did those three days we last saw one another.”

You rolled your eyes. “Those three days were a mistake. Just because I saw something worth spending time with in you months ago doesn’t mean I still feel that.”

“But you haven’t forgotten me.”

“It’s hard to when I see your brother’s face everywhere, and I have to live with the fact that for some reason I was drawn to you.”

He smiled. “Drawn to me?”

“Please, don’t get hype.” This time you stepped closer to him, meeting him chest to chest.  “If you came to me months ago, I would fallen at your feet, so excited about my ‘lover’ returning. But you showed me and everyone else who you really were. So, if I don’t see you dead or in a prison cell for whatever you’re planning to do this time, I won’t hesitate getting you there myself.”

He smirked. “Then why not start now?”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down. You brought your lips up to his, and he readied himself for a kiss. But you had other plans.

“Because, _my pet_ , I want the Avengers to get to you before I do.” you whispered.

“Oh I think you want more than that.”

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? Thinking eventually you’d wear me down and get a chance to hear me scream your name? Have you been wondering how it would feel to touch me? To kiss me? To be inside of me again?” He didn’t reply, he just laughed, as if he had you right where he wanted you. You stood on your toes and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Mmmm… Tough shit.”

You punched him in the stomach and he doubled over. You pulled him back over to your fire escape by his ear and tossed him straight back out into the night.

“Good luck, asshole!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: THOOOOORRR


	17. Stay With Me (Thor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, i am..... in love with thor  
> 2017 is the Rise of Thor, tell your friends

SO i lost this request, but i remembered that it was thor and it was smut so..... here we are.... winging it

i hope you like it anyway, babes

* * *

 

“Hey, Thor, you home?” 

Each time you said that, you grinned knowing that you were the only person in this world or any other who could say that. 

When he didn't respond you walked to your bedroom where your big teddy bear of a boyfriend was still sleeping, or so you thought. You quietly took off your shoes and your jacket and climbed on the bed, straddling his hips. You leaned down and kissed his cheeks, making a chuckle rumble from deep in his chest.

“Are these not the lips of the same woman who warned me never to wake up her up before she pleased?”

You smiled and kissed his nose. “You seem very pleased to me. Get up, I wanna eat with you.” He groaned. “Thor, c’mon.”

“I'd rather hold you here in bed with me. How warm you are, sweet one.”

“Well, I don't want to tempt you so…” You moved to get up when his hand reached out and grabbed you, pulling you to his chest. “Why are you like this?”

“If you didn't wish to tempt me you should never have joined me in bed, looking the way that you do.”

You giggled. “Thor, I love you, but I have so much to do.”

“You have been working so hard lately, dearest. I can only assume that you haven't had proper sleep in weeks.”

“I don't sleep much anyway because my boyfriend's constantly risking his life to save the world.”

He sighed and lifted your chin up to face him. “You know not to worry about me.”

“I've seen what you fight, I can't help but worry.”

You and Thor met during your brief stint as an Avenger years ago. The weight of responsibility became too much and you asked to stay off the field, and he was the first person to ask if you were okay. He was the one who always stopped to talk to you, and to ask you about your nightmares. That turned into nights curled up next to him in bed, just him attempting to comfort you, but it eventually became much more. You tried the whole secret lovers gig but it didn't work out because he was too excited to call you his own. You never thought you'd be so adored by a god.

“I take great pride in defending a world that has, so kindly, graced me with the privilege of crossing paths with you. Why would I not defend something so precious to me?”

You grinned. “You’re just saying that to make me stay.” 

He turned, flipping you on your back. “I’ll say it once more when I allow you to leave.” You rolled your eyes. “You're trying to act pestered but there's a smile on your lips.”

“It's because I'm with you, Thor.”

“Stay with me.”

“I'd love to…” He pouted and you covered his face with your hand. “Don't make this harder than it needs to be.”

He kissed your palm and took your hand away, pinning it above your head. “You need rest.”

“Your mouth says that but the look in your eyes makes me think I won't be resting any time soon.”

He feigned shock at your statement. “My intentions are innocent, ____________.”

“There’s nothing innocent about you pinning me to the bed, there’s nothing innocent about you insisting I stay here, and there’s nothing innocent about the way you’re looking at me right now.”

He bit his lip. “In the interest of fairness, you’ve stopped trying to leave.”

You felt your skin getting hot. “Being underneath you has never had bad results.”

Thor kissed down your neck to your shoulders. Despite knowing that you had things to do, you laid there feeling his lips travel across your brown skin, each kiss made it harder for you to make a case for moving from the bed. 

“Thor…” you said with a moan as his hands travelled up your shirt. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I missed you,” he admitted between kisses. “This mission went on for far too long and I sorely missed you.”

You lifted his head up. “I was here when you got back, baby.”

“But you were sleep, all I desired was the sound of your voice. Please, stay in the bed with me, just for a moment?”

You kissed him, and the kiss lingered as he pressed his forehead to yours. “If you like me so much then marry me.”

He nodded. “Aye, I think I will.”

Before you, with your wide, disbelieving eyes, could question that answer, he’d already pulled the sheets over the both of you and was now stripping off everything you were wearing on the lower half of your body with incredible urgency.

“Wait, Thor, are you serious about-” 

You gasped in a huge amount of air when the god’s fingers found your heat. You’d gone so long without being touched by him, that the first contact was lightning shooting through you. All work forgotten, you allowed yourself to give into his touch as your gentle lover kept his eyes on you before locking his lips with yours. 

He revelled in how soft and wet you were, and the sounds you made, as if you'd been apart for far more than a few weeks. He loved the way your hair became a halo around your face. He loved how full your lips were and how your mouth tasted. Actually he loved how all of you tasted and smelled so sweet and warm. 

His fingers circled your entrance, increasing their pace and then slowing and, like the tease that he so often was, they deliberately never even brushed your clit. Every time he pulled his lips away you felt compelled to drag him back. You missed him, too. You missed him more.

He released your hands to trail his own along your sides. You held onto his shoulders. He slowly pushed one finger inside of you, groaning as he felt your sensitive body react. He added another as he went deeper. His large hands went up to play with your hard nipples, pushing your shirt out of his way. He moved his fingers quicker, deeper, dragging his lips and tongue along the newly-exposed skin between your breasts. The both of you became so much more vocal, so much hungrier.

“Oh, fuck, Thor!” 

The whine pulled itself from you as his thumb finally brushed against your clit. His fingers curled inside of you and you arched up against his chest, feeling that familiar pressure build in your core. But you had an idea, and you squeezed his arms.

“Thor, Thor… wait…” He stopped, pulling his fingers out and looking up at you with concern. Using every ounce of strength that you had, you rolled on top of him and straddled his waist again. You pulled off your shirt and threw it to the side.  “I like you from this angle.”

He smirked and ran his hands up your thighs. “Likewise.” You rolled your hips on his hard member once to see how’d he’d react, and then again when he let out the sexiest moan you’d ever heard in your life. “My lady, you are unlike anyone else.” 

You took him in your hand and guided him to your entrance, and he started rolling his hips with yours. You could see the ecstasy across his face even when only the tip was in.

“By the nine, don’t tease me…”

You raised an eyebrow. “So it’s fine when you do it?”

“______________,  _ please _ , I need you.”

Unable to carry on with torturing him much longer, you lowered yourself down, slowly letting him fill you and stretch you, drawing loud moans from the both of you. You took a moment to adjust, he looked at you reverently, as if you were art.

He started thrusting up, and you rolled your hips to meet his. It was almost like a dance the two of you were sharing, and intimate dance to welcome him home. The faster you went, the louder you became. Moaning, sighing, and panting. You ran your nails down his chest and he groaned your name and a series of praises.

Feeling the both of you getting closer to your peak, Thor wrapped his arm around your waist and flipped you back onto your back, driving into you, harder, faster. He buried his face in your neck and your head fell back onto the pillow as he took you, his pelvis brushing against your clit perfectly. He touched your face so gently with one hand, while the other rested behind your knee.  

You felt it, like an approaching train. Your moans crescendoed until you were practically screaming, and your eyes squeezed shut as you reached your peak. He kept going, and you were so sensitive that you just came again, this time dragging him with you. He shuddered as he released inside of you before pulling out. 

It took you both a while to come down from your hazes, you lazily kissed, and he rolled onto his side, pulling you close. You weren’t moving anytime soon, so Thor’s plan to keep you in bed ended up working after all.

After a while, you turned to him and smiled. “Did you mean it?” you asked. He raised an eyebrow. “When you said you would marry me?”

He smiled from ear to ear. “It would be an honor to spend the rest of my days by your side. My heart has been completely captivated by you.”

You could feel your tired body getting heavy, and your eyes starting to flutter. He kissed the top of your head and started rubbing your back to lull you to sleep. Before falling asleep, you squeezed him a little tighter.

“Stay with me.”

“I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Rhodey!!!


	18. A Date (Rhodey)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought we could all use something really simple and fluffy today, here's a bit of relief for you. no plot, just fluff  
> take a fucking sip, babes  
> (i've been super anxious lately so i hope y'all like this, i love you)

 

> _You still doing "Brown Sugar" requests? Cause I got one with ReaderxJames Rhodes (or Rhodey) where they kind of flirt with each other during a battle?_

* * *

 

You should’ve been scared, you always should’ve been scared. Missions didn’t have fixed endings. There was always a risk of you not coming back. But you weren’t scared. You were an Avenger, you had the best backup on planet earth.

You were stretching and getting geared up in the helicarrier when you felt someone tap your shoulder. You grinned.  “Well, if it isn’t Colonel James Rhodes…”

He smiled. It was amazing how just being in the same space as each other could brighten your moods. You really were dating your best friend, your partner, and it showed at home and on the field. “Now how did you know it was me?”

“You smell the same all the time,” you replied. “I’d know that cologne anywhere. Especially since it keeps rubbing off on me.”

“Are you two done?” asked a second voice. You rolled your eyes and turned to Tony, who was waiting in the doorway. “We’re on a schedule.”

“Oh yeah, Tony’s here. Forgot to mention it.”

You chuckled and grabbed the last of your gear, double-checking as the carrier started to land. “Tony, I love you, but all of us have been forced to watch you and Pepper be incredibly white with each other for years, let grown folks be grown folks.”

Rhodey kissed you on the cheek. “Yeah, Stank, it’s good for morale.”

Tony liked to act cranky but he was just happy to see Rhodey so happy, and you making his best friend that happy made you his friend too. Even if you were taking away from their boys’ nights. It was for the best. “I suppose as long as I still have best man privileges you can do whatever you please.”

“I don’t know about all that because Thor…” When a look of genuine concern crossed Tony’s face you stopped. “I’m kidding, you still have dibs on the best man spot.”

He let out a breath of relief and Rhodey laughed. “Don’t scare him like that, he needs that kind of constant validation. Keeps his hair from receding too far back.”

You and Rhodey snickered and giggled as you went to join the rest of the team.

* * *

The battle raged at a disorienting pace. You were fighting on a plateau, with risk of falling over the edge. The Avengers were far outnumbered, but you and the team were stronger. Occasionally, one of you would get overwhelmed and the others would rush to your aid.

Usually Rhodey was guarding your six, but he had to stay in the air while you fought alongside Steve, Sam, and Natasha on the ground. You were the only ones without magical powers, so you stuck with each other.

It started getting dicey. Your teammates were slowing down but your attackers seemed to just be getting started. Rhodey flew over where he thought you were and scanned the area but couldn’t find you.

“Hey, where’s ____________?” he asked.

“I’m in a corner,” you answered as you fought off as many enemies as you could. “The only thing that could make this better is a good view of your ass.”

He laughed. “Get out of there and you can see it all you want.”

“How’s it looking up there?” you asked.

“Better than it is down there.”

When you had an opportunity to fight your way out of the corner, you did. “Well, you’re welcome to join, War Machine. In fact, I’d implore you to do so.”

“Alright, on my way down.” He immediately landed and started fighting through to get to you. “Couldn’t you just blind these things with your beauty?”

You giggled. You could finally see him across the field, and suddenly you felt a jolt of energy surge through you. With your man on the ground, how could you lose? “Hey Rhodes, what are you doing after this?”

“Nothing, you?”

“Nothing!” The fight was starting to move in your favor as your teammates fought through their fatigue.

Tony landed not too far from the both of you. You could tell because he instantly started blasting away as soon as he’d landed. You covered Steve’s six as the entire team moved closer to each other.

“What would you say to Italian food? You, me, that yellow dress you love so much?” you asked. “That other thing you love so much a little bit later on…”

Rhodey smiled. “It’s a deal.”

“Good.” You backed up, taking shots at a guy who was running towards you with a knife. You felt your back hit something hard and moved out of the way, only to find that it was your boyfriend. “Have I ever told you that I love a man in uniform?”

“Only everyday, but don’t let that stop you.”

“You two are really lucky that this battle is pretty much over,” Sam said. “Really lucky.”

You pouted. “C’mon Sam, it’s good for morale.”

Rhodey turned to you. “Hey, don’t steal my line.”

“It’s _our_ line, we share joint custody.”

Thor handled the last of the attackers easily and the rest of you caught your breaths and surveyed the area for anyone hidden. You and Rhodey went together. As you were walking, you caught a glimpse of the view from where you were. It was like you’d found the perfect place to see the entire horizon.

You nudged him and he stared out into the horizon with you. “Can this be part of the date?”

He smirked. “The entire mission was part of the date, girl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Bucky  
> like i said, the love for Bucky Barnes amongst you lot? amazing. incredible. outstanding.


	19. Taste (Bucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's lovingly crafted porn

 

> _Would you ever write Bucky performing cunnilingus and just worshipping his girl's body?_

yeah, i would

* * *

 

It was supposed to be a nice night out for you and rest of the Avengers to just let go and dance. You and Bucky didn’t want to go but through some convincing (you losing a drinking contest to Natasha), you ended up dressed and at a nightclub that was too swanky to be any real fun. Everyone else was dancing on the floor, but you and Bucky stuck to your seats. You sat on his lap, passively sipping your drink while his metal hand rested on your thigh.

You and Bucky being a mess, you’d been teasing each other since before you even left your place. It all started when you were in nothing but your underwear, and instantly Bucky’s hands were all over you. He whispered things in your ear to get you hot and bothered, things like,  “If I had my way, I’d keep you home and take care of all of this.” The ‘all of this’ being your ass, which he’d grabbed about a handful of as the sentence rolled off his tongue. Then he saw you in that short gold dress that sparkled off of your brown skin and made him weak in the knees and he wouldn't stop staring at you like you were a meal.

Of course you wanted nothing more than for him to keep you home and take care of you, but you promised you’d go out, and so out you went.

You and Bucky were the poster children for what happens when homebodies are forced to go outside, but any time spent with him was a good time, and the music wasn’t awful either.

“God, I just remembered I have cookie dough in the fridge.”

Bucky laughed, and then you had to laugh at yourself. “You must be having _such_ a good time right now, doll.”

“Of course I am, I’m with you,” you said. “But I’d rather be with you, at home, in bed, probably naked, eating cookie dough.”

He kissed your shoulder and his thumb stroked the inside of your thigh. “If it makes you feel any better, you smell fucking delicious.”

“Mmm, it’s that new perfume I got that’s supposed to make me smell like a sugar cookie.”

“Shit, baby, it’s working…”

You giggled, but didn’t stop his hand which was starting to move further north, or his lips which were dragging across your skin fueling that all too familiar flame inside of you. “If you don’t calm down... we’re in public.”

“Nobody’s watching…”

“But they _could_ , Sam and Steve could be back any second.”

“But you look so good and you smell so good…” Now his hand was under the skirt of your dress, and before you could attempt to protest again he was already rubbing your wetness over your panties. “And I know you taste good…”

You sighed, aroused as you’ve ever been, but trying to hide it. “You can’t just eat me out in the open.”

He smirked, and you knew you’d just flipped the final switch. “You’re right.”

In a second, you were rushing out of the nightclub, telling a confused Steve that you’d left something in the backseat of the car and would be back in a moment. When you made it to the car in the parking lot, Bucky could barely stand to be patient while you dug out the key, and the back of your dress was already being pushed up.

You opened the door and turned around, kissing Bucky as you climbed into the backseat and shut the door behind you. You two were already loud, already panting, and the adrenaline was making you twice as excited.

He pulled away from your lips, kissing your neck up to your ear, while he pulled down your underwear and started rubbing your aching heat. “I swear to fucking God as soon as we get home I’m gonna have you in every goddamn room, baby. I’ll fuck you ‘til you can’t move.” You moaned, and he pushed two fingers inside of you, making you gasp. “You knew what you were doing, didn’t you? When you put on that dress and put on that perfume? You're so beautiful."

Unable to process words, you tried your best to answer him. “I know, you tell me all the time.”

“And now I'm gonna show you. Sit up for me, doll.”

You sat up, legs spread, and he pulled his hair back with a band he had around his wrist. The car already smelled like sex and you two were still fully clothed. Licking his lips, he buried his face between your legs, pressing a reverent kiss to your clit before spreading your lips with his fingers. His tongue went lower, circling your entrance. You put your leg on his shoulder and threw your head back as he licked and sucked and moaned against your pussy.

It was hard trying to be quiet, when he was so obviously trying to draw screams out of you, the way he’d roll his tongue against your clit without warning, and his blue eyes bore into yours. He’d bring you to the edge and then deny you, over and over, until the pressure building was enough to make you scream out of frustration and need. You were close to begging for it, so close.

“Bucky…” He hummed, and his mouth wrapped around your clit, focusing on it. Your fingers tangled in his hair and the car was silent except for the sounds of him slurping up your wetness. “Bucky!”

You came hard, pleasure rolled through you, and Bucky slowed down as you lifted your hips towards his face. When he was done lapping up your sweetness, he lifted himself up over your spent body and kissed you gently as you caught your breath and came to your senses.

“Tell me when you're ready to get back, baby.”

You shook your head. “Can we just stay here and listen to the radio until the guys are out?”

He smiled and climbed into the front seat, turning on the radio and the heat. He shuffled through the stations until you heard one of your favorite songs playing and decided on that one. Then he climbed back into the backseat and held you close to his chest.

“You’re gonna need the rest anyway... For the cookie dough, obviously.”

You smiled. “Glad to hear it.”

* * *

 

Sam and Steve got back to the table while you two were out, and Sam rolled his eyes. “Where’d they go?”

Steve shrugged. “__________ said she left something in the backseat of the car and they were going to get it.”

Sam stared at him incredulously. “Really? The backseat _we’re_ riding in on the way back?”

“What?”

“‘In the backseat’ doesn’t sound off to you?”

“Well, I forget things all the time...” There was a pause and then Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: T'Challa


	20. It's Been Awhile (T'Challa)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BEEN SO LONG AND I'M SORRY

 

> _Hey, hey! Could you write some fluffy dancing/cooking in the kitchen with T'challa? I would be super nervous 'cause, king of Wakanda and all. T'challa being sweet and playful! Bonus points if you're able to work in a first kiss!_

So i love food… and i’m also a hungry college student so…. This is therapy

* * *

It wasn’t a date, not at first. You’d met the new King of Wakanda years ago, through a series of happenstances when he was in college. You were one year younger than him, studying sociology, and something about the boy rubbed you the wrong way at first. As you’d once so delicately put it, T’Challa was an “arrogant boujee asshole who thinks his title means a damn thing to everyone all the time”. He never disputed you on that, because you weren’t entirely wrong.

But the fact that you always seemed to call him out drew him to you, and soon you were in a study group together, hanging out every other weekend. It didn’t take you long at all to start falling for him, just like it didn’t take him long to go back to his country.

He showed up in the States only days before, for some matter of business. You were doing research at the time, and a few co-workers mentioned that T’Challa had landed in the city in passing, because they had no clue you knew him.

Soon enough, you saw him around. He recognized you instantly, said a few T’Challa-typical charming lines to you, and asked to come over for dinner, and who were you to refuse a king?

“But we can’t have one of our world famous debates,” she said. “I live across from an old lawyer and anytime I raise my voice above a whisper, he thinks I’m going full hood.”

He scoffed. “Nonsense, if anything your arguments get better the louder you become.”

You smiled and handed him a piece of paper with your phone number and address written on it. “I’ve missed you, T. But don’t bring the Dora Milaje this time.”

“Why not?”

“Frankly, they scare me. They scare me in a good way, and kudos for that but I’d rather not.”

* * *

 

A day passed and the evening arrived. You’d made a good playlist of all the songs that came out when you were at school together, and you even beat your face. Still, before the night began, no one could possibly convince you that this was a date. Of course, a part of you was _hoping_ it would end that way, but it had been years since you even saw each other. So many things changed in between…

There was a buzz at the door at around six. You eagerly ran over and swung it open. T’Challa was standing there with flowers of your favorite color and he smelled so good that it caught you in a trance the moment you let him in.

You took the flowers and sniffed them. “What are you up to, huh?”

He smirked. “You tell me, ____________. You were always so excellent at thinking one step ahead of me.”

You carried the flowers to the kitchen and found the perfect vase for them. Then put them on full display on the living room.  “That was years ago, hon. It’s been a minute.”

“Ah, but I know that mind. It’s quicker than many.”

You chuckled. “That line ain’t work on Gina and it’s not gonna work on me.”

“Well, it’s the truth with you.”

You tried stifling the laugh, but you couldn’t, and his face lit up when he heard you laugh. “You’re such a shit! Follow me to the kitchen, I’ll show you what’s on the menu.”

T’Challa followed you, and was embraced by a number of smells that made his stomach rumble, and reminded him why he always used to hang around your apartment when you had enough for groceries. You turned on the oven light.

“It’s all comfort food, my specialty, as you know.” you explained. Cornbread’s baking on the second rack, made it just like you liked it. I discovered the perfect way to bake chicken so, get hype, because that’s on the first rack.” You turned to the counter where a bowl of steaming savory-smelling vegetables were sitting. “Fresh stir fried veggies.”

“You were quite busy.”

“Well, you know, it’s been awhile since someone has let me cook for them, and it’s been even longer since I’ve had King T’Challa with me, I had to show off. Dinner’s basically done, give or take a few minutes, but I wasn’t sure when you’d be popping by so I got started on brownies.”

He put his hand on his heart. “Oh, how you are spoiling me.”

“Better, the brownies are a parting gift for you to take back to Wakanda.”

He smiled. “Thank you, my friend.”

He leaned on the table while you worked on the brownies, his fingers started tapping to the music. You were swaying your hips, but trying to keep a steady hand with the mixer.

“So, what’s it like?” you said, raising your voice over the mixer. “Being a king?”

He sighed. “Difficult without my father’s guidance, but luckily he was such a valuable teacher in his lifetime.”

“I never met your dad, but I remember all of your stories about him. You had a sweet relationship. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“That loss has ushered me into a period of growth, so it isn’t all sad. What of you? What have you been up too?”

“I wrote a few books. Mostly about the experience of being a Black woman in college, and a book about the shadow of colonialism in Haiti.”

“Wonderful, so you are doing everything you wished to do by now.”

You nodded. “Just about.”

“Well, what haven’t you done?” he asked. “Those are the next goals.”

You sighed and thought about it. “Honestly thought I’d be married by now,” you replied. “But if I make that a goal, I might miss a real, natural connection with someone.”

T’Challa understood. When you finished mixing, he dipped a finger in the batter and giggled as you glared at him and pulled the bowl away. “You, __________, want to be swept off of your feet, like in the movies.”

You had to laugh at that. You poured the brownie batter into a pan and dipped your own finger in as it spilled out. “T’Challa, no I do not, shut up.”

Loving how annoyed your tone was, he kept going. “You wish for, eh, what was the name of that man from that movie you love?”

“Do not bring Maid In Manhattan into this,” you warned him, pressing a finger to his chest. “There are lines you don’t cross with me.”

The oven timer beeped and you took dinner out and set it on the counter, then you popped the brownies in. After that, you and T’Challa were free to eat, and you did, even going back for seconds, but you mostly just wanted to talk. Your hours-long conversation held few breaks, even when you got up to get the brownies from the oven. You didn’t even notice that so much time had passed, until you were washing the dishes and saw that it was now 11:45.

A slow song started playing, something smooth and a little sexy, and that’s the moment that the night took a turn for the dreamy.

“I know what’s kept you from getting married, ___________. I am well aware of what you really want.”

“Enlighten me.”

He walked toward you and pulled you close, swaying with you to the music. His hand rested on your lower back, and you couldn’t ignore how tightly he held you. He held you as if he never wanted to let you go. “You have always wanted a quiet love. One that remembers, one that savors… One that takes time to appreciate the sound of your voice, the way that your mind moves… The shape of your lips… How you’ve changed and how you haven’t totally changed.”

You looked up at him and smirked. “Is that what Gina wanted?”

“Oh _please_ leave Gina alone.”

“I mean, she was a nice girl, we both knew that was a match made in hell, but young T’Challa was _such_ an ass man…”

“I’m trying to have a moment with you and you are ruining it.”

“Ain’t that what I’ve always done? Ruin your day?”

He lifted your chin up. “Not even close.”

Your heart fluttered, but you remained vigilant. “Were you expecting something when you came tonight? I’m not about to be another notch on T’Challa’s belt.”

“_______________, I have always felt that you and I were matched. When I returned home after finishing school, I told everyone about the woman I’d met, with a mind like no other, and beauty that legends are written about. I spent years learning alongside you and from you, and some of those lessons were the most valuable I have learned in this life.”

“Are you sure this isn’t just you romanticizing the past, T’Challa?”

He shook his head. “I spent nearly six hours speaking to you, and my feelings haven’t wavered yet.”

“So you think that you still like me?”

He shook his head. “I _know_ that I _love_ you.”

For a moment you thought that your alarm would sound, and a morning would steal this perfect moment from you, but it never happened. This was real, and once T’Challa’s lips were on your’s, you were in heaven.

You had always heard from friends that T’Challa was the kind of kisser who could make time freeze around you, and you quickly found that they weren't lying. He kissed you with enough adoration to make you feel worshiped, and the time it took to get to this place was enough to make you both want it to last forever. It was what you waited for, and it was better than you imagined.

You pulled away from him to catch your breath, and he smiled at you, lips slightly purple from your lipstick. You raised an eyebrow. “Can I be thrown in jail for kissing a king?”

“No. However, there are other things that could be done to you.” He lifted your hand up and pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Would you you like me to show you tonight?”

“Will they be looking for you in the morning?”

He shook his head. “I told them that if all goes well, they would find me with you when the morning came.”

You rolled your eyes and started pulling him towards your bedroom. “You are still an arrogant, boujee asshole, who thinks your title means a damn thing to everyone all the time…”

“Please keep going, I’ve missed this.”

“And you’re so very argumentative!” You got to your bedroom door and he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his hips. He kissed your neck, making you moan as you kept throwing insults at him. “And you think you’re so fucking cute, and so fucking well-dressed, and you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Steve and Thor  
> a Good Time


	21. Warmth of Their Arms (Steve + Thor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little stress relief for us gals  
> (i wanted to update last week but, like, midterms. sorry. also i'm doing that creative person thing where i'm working on like 12 things at once and then wondering why i'm having anxiety attacks. it's all my dumb ass fault, forgive me, i love y'all and i love writing for y'all i'm just a... disaster)

 

> _Steve and Thor pampering the reader after she’s had a rough day_

* * *

 

The day felt broken.

Each day you faced with some measure of optimism, hoping for the best even in the face of the worst. Your job wasn't easy. Sure, your powers made it easier but you were still human, unlike one of your boyfriends who noticed the mood you were in almost immediately after you'd walked in, he was intuitive like that.

“My love, you are upset,” he said. You wanted to make a comment about him stating the obvious, but this was Thor, he only ever meant well and he loved you. “Has something happened?”

You nodded and sat on his lap, curling your legs up. “I just wanna lay down, baby. It’s late, it was a long day of training, I made a mistake. I'm just off today.”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“I absolutely wouldn’t. Not now anyway, maybe later.”

Thor was understanding. “I will carry you to your room.”

Before you could protest, he picked you up and carried you towards your little place in the tower. You allowed yourself to be taken care of, your body was too tired to resist it. It was so warm and safe in Thor’s arms. You felt that nothing could possibly hurt you.

Your other boyfriend, Steve, came walking down the hall in the opposite direction. He stopped in front of you two with a grin.

“Is she tired?” You answered by groaning into Thor's chest. “Alright.”

“I was going to lay her down so she could rest.”

Steve nodded. “Need help with that?”

You groaned even louder. “I swear on my life, on _everything_ , if you two try to get things going I'll kick you out of bed.”

Steve chuckled. “We won't, sweetheart, we'll take care of you. How does a hot bath sound?”

Just the thought of it was making you shudder. It was just what your muscles and nerves needed. “Sounds amazing.”

Thor carried you to your bathroom and Steve ran the water for the bath, throwing in a soothing lavender bath bomb. You undressed yourself with a bit of extra help from your boys, and they folded your clothes and took them back to your room so you wouldn’t have to worry about it later. You put your hair up, Steve lit a few candles, then Thor helped you into the bath.

Your boys were gentle, letting you rest and soak in the hot water while they cleaned you. Thor and Steve told you stories to make you laugh. They assured you that any mistakes you made didn’t make you any less of an Avenger. You were still their beautiful, wonderful lover. They would support you no matter what.

When you were done in the bath, they helped you out and dried you off. You went back to your bedroom while they cleaned up, and you put on a loose t-shirt and a pair of underwear. Then they rejoined you in the bedroom. It was late and you still had to braid your hair up for the night, but you had the least amount of patience. Luckily for you, you had Thor, who was a pretty good braider.

“Thor?”

“Is there something you need, my darling?”

“Could you braid my hair?”

He grinned and climbed into bed and you sat up, letting him sit behind you with his long legs on either side of you. Steve turned on some soft music and sat at your feet, taking one of them in his strong hands and slowly massaging it.

There was something in that moment that struck you. You could almost feel yourself tearing up. The day had been entirely too hard on you until this moment when you fell into the arms of two of the gentlest men you’d ever met. You weren’t sure what you’d done to deserve it.

“I really love y’all,” you said.

Steve smiled and climbed up the bed, kissing you, then giving you space to turn and kiss Thor. You took a deep breath and settled, letting your boys soothe every ache you had, then you fell fast asleep between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Peter!!  
> i really really really should mention that i'm closing requests in a little bit because i'm close to my limit of 55, but i have spots left for like... five requests  
> so get em in quick at my blog captainafroelf.tumblr.com, kiddos. PLEASE don't leave requests in the comments because i will forget that they are there. idk why my brain works like that, it just does  
> remember i need  
> 1\. basic prompt (try to be specific)  
> 2\. character  
> 3\. any minor details like body type, accent, gap in your teeth, glasses, etc. (excluding giving yourself a name because, like, it's a reader-insert. also i'll take requests for skin tones but i probably will just use "brown" to describe your skin tone unless the request was specifically for a darkskin girl because colorism is real in these streets and i want the fics to mostly remain neutral across the board)  
> also, because this keeps happening for some reason, i just wanna say that i'll never take requests from white girls for anything ever in life *sticks tongue out* go ask becky and them to write ya somethin


	22. Don't Get It (Peter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to love you (pyt) pretty young thing! you need some loving (tlc) tendah lovin care, and i'll take you theeereee...  
> this is holland's spider-man but you could make it work for any of the others, i think

> _Brown sugar request for Peter and a chubby dark skin reader where they're best friends and she tells him how much she likes spiderman but she thinks he'd only date small white girls. He reveals everything and it ends in fluff and him asking her out?_

* * *

“Aunt May, I’m home! I brought ____________!” You followed Peter inside the apartment he shared with his aunt. He held the door for you and cleared his throat. “Aunt May?”

“Must not be home,” you said.

“Sweet, that means the pizza I just ordered is just for us.”

You grinned, setting your bag down by the couch and taking a seat while Peter turned on the tv. Not that you would ever admit this, but you were glad to be alone with Peter. He was your best friend. The one person you were _always_ happy to see. No one made you laugh the way he did, and no one else supported you the way he did. It hadn’t just been you two in a while, he’d been so busy lately, you needed this time.

As he flipped through channels, you caught a quick glimpse of what appeared to be Spider-Man flying across the screen. You gasped and asked him to go back. He pressed the back button twice, skipping the channel again.

“PETER!”

“Sorry!”

The reporter was talking about Spider-Man’s latest adventure: Stopping an armed robbery at a jewelry store. There was footage of the webslinger going from rooftop to rooftop as if it were nothing. You sighed in adoration and Peter took a seat next to you.

“He’s cool, right?” he asked you.

You nodded. “The fucking coolest… What do you think he looks like under the suit? I always thought he was blond but someone told me that they saw brown hair under the mask when he first showed up… I wonder where he got his powers from. It’s not like Thor or anything, he’s not a god, he’s a kid like us.”

Peter chuckled. “Wait, __________, do you have a crush on Spider-Man?”

You covered your face. “I know, it’s so weird.”

“You never told me!”

“Because it’s _weird_ , Pete!”

He shook his head. “It’s not weird at all, I’m-I’m sure Spider-Man would love you if he met you. I mean, he’s from New York. You’re bound to run into him at some point.”

You rolled your eyes and your expression dropped. You hoped Peter didn’t notice, but he did. “You don’t get it…”

“What’s wrong? Don’t get what?” His phone started to ring. “That’s the pizza, gimme a sec.”

“Sure, Peter…”

He didn’t want to leave you like this, staring at the looping video of Spider-Man on the tv with such a hurt expression on your face. He had to know what was wrong. He grabbed the pizza and walked back to you. The news moved on and you put on a happier face, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue. But you knew Peter Parker. It wasn’t happening.

“Now ____________, I didn’t wanna have to do this but if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I’ll have to do that one voice you hate.”

You cringed. “Stereotypical Long Island mom?”

“You know it.”

“Please don’t.”

“Then tell me what I don’t get.”

You shrugged and grabbed a slice of pizza from the box. “It’s just, superheroes don’t date girls like me.” Seeing that he didn’t quite get it, you gestured towards your face, your skin, and your body. “I’m about five tones too dark and twenty pounds too heavy.”

“That’s not true.”

“See? You don’t get it.”

Peter stared at you for a moment, a thousand different alarms going off behind his eyes telling him not to do exactly what he was about to do. He didn’t listen to a single one of them. He got up and walked into his room. While you changed the channel, you heard him rustling through clothes, zipping and unzipping. You heard him stumble and trip, shouting “Shit!” as he hit the ground. You stood to your feet and walked to his room, but the door was closed.

“Are you okay in there?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, come in, I want you to see something.”

You slowly walked in, head first to make sure he wasn’t naked. You couldn’t find him at first, but you kept looking around. “Peter Parker’s actually letting me into his bedroom? Wait until Aunt May hears about-” You turned towards the door and there was Spider-Man. This wasn’t a replica suit either, this was _the_ Spider-Man suit. Spider-Man was in front of her.  “... What?”

“I told you, Spider-Man would love you if he met you.”

“Peter… are you kidding me right now?”

He took off the mask and shook his head. “I’m Spider-Man.”

“Does your aunt know?”

He shook his head. “It’s just you and Tony Stark right now.”

“Just me and Tony… Like, Iron Man? _That_ Tony Stark?”

"Yeah, ___________." Peter was incredibly nervous. His cheeks were pink and he took your hands hoping he didn’t ruin it all. “I, actual Spider-Man, think that you are adorable and funny and smart and I absolutely would date a girl like you. But would you date a guy like me?”

You smiled. “Yeah, you big idiot.”

“Seriously?”

“I’ve had a thing for Peter Parker since we were little. Now he’s Spider-Man, that’s, like, a bonus. You’re practically irresistible. Don’t let it go to your head.” It was starting to go through his head, you could tell by the way his shoulders straightened. “ _Peter_.”

He laughed and pulled you closer, looking down at your lips as if he wanted to kiss you but couldn't muster up the courage to do so even after you'd told him that you liked him back. “Sorry, sorry, I won’t let it go to my head.”

You kissed him, taking him by surprise, but he caught on fast. The only thing that broke the kiss was the sound of the apartment door opening and shutting. You both panicked and he quickly started stripping the suit off.

“If she asks, just say you were in the bathroom and I’m just getting my phone charger.”

“Yup!”

“Oh, and does what just happened mean that this is a date now?”

“Not with your aunt here.”

“Right. I should take you on a real date soon.”

You smiled and walked out of his room. “Yes, you should.”

"Shit, I'll need money..." he pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and dialed Tony's number. "Okay, hey Tony, this is gonna sound stupid but there's a girl, and I really,  _really_ like her..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Frank Castle!!!!!!!  
> get hype


	23. Big Man With a Gun (Punisher)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God bless jon bernthal's face, it is truly one to be sat on  
> this is a meet-ugly  
> also this is way longer than i thought it would be, oopsss

 

> _Brown Sugar and Honey request for Punisher. Reader is a merc called the "Harlem Mauler"(people assume shes a male bcuz of the brutality of the murders)whose target gets killed by Frank so she goes off on him and he's just wondering why this short green eyed freckled woman is yelling at him until he sees the Maulers signature wasp knife. He puts 2 &2 together and laughs bcuz all of New York is more scared of a 5"0 little girl to which prompts her to beat his ass and he falls in love with her. _

I made this all a little more neutral, of course, but the heart's still there

* * *

 

He didn't usually work in Harlem, much like the Russians didn't usually work in Harlem, but there's a first time for everything. The night was quiet as any other, meaning that it wasn't. But Frank found himself marching through the dark back alleys practically undetected, dragging a crying, screaming Russian mobster behind him by his collar. He'd been abducting little kids in the area, taking them God knows where to have God knows what done to them. This one would be easy.

“Better I get to you than the parents,” Frank rasped. “Way I see it, I'm doing you a service by not handin' you over to them.”

He reached the end of an alley where there was no light and threw the man down into a trash bag. Before the man could protest or try to run, Frank cocked his gun and got him in the chest once, then the head. He didn't have a silencer on, so the sound echoed between brick walls.

Satisfied, Frank put his gun away and turned to leave, only to find his face met with brass knuckles. He toppled back and reeled back his own fist, but another hard blow landed on his other cheek.

Taken aback, he blinked a few times before a surprising figure came into view. It was you, in a perfect fighter’s stance dressed in an all black suit as if you and Daredevil went to the same designer. You wore a black mask on your eyes but that didn't hide the fact that you were glaring up at him, looking like a killer.

He narrowed his eyes. “What the hell was that?!”

“That wasn't your mark, you piece of shit!” you gritted through your teeth.

He looked you up and down, assessing the situation in front of him. You weren’t a particularly large or imposing woman. You were someone he would see on the street and assume the absolute least of, but he supposed that gave you an advantage. “You pack a punch, I'll give ya that...”

You rolled your eyes. “I would've done so much fucking better had you just stayed out of the way! He deserved a slow death. He deserved to feel every inch of life leave him!” You walked over to the body and your fists clenched before you stomped it in the chest with your heavy boot. “Why the _fuck_ are you in Harlem?!”

“You weren't workin' fast enough.”

You pulled out your knife and walked up to him until you were chest to chest, or as close to it as you could've gotten. As you put the blade up to his throat, he grabbed your wrist, but you didn't flinch. You'd fought bigger.

“The Mauler doesn't work fast but she's good at what she does.”

He raised his eyebrows at the weapon and it suddenly clicked. There'd been rumors swirling about a number of criminals, pedophiles, and corrupt police officers turning up dead and completely unrecognizable. The Harlem Mauler broke faces, never leaving a single bone out. Sometimes, if the so-called victims did something really heinous, they'd find their throats slit, or their chests stabbed, with gas from a WASP knife in their systems. The police sketch going around had the Mauler looking like a hulking mass of a man with low brows and an eternal scowl. He was having a hard time coming to terms with the fact that the small, particularly beautiful woman in front of him was the same person.

“That you?”

“Yeah, and you just ruined my chance to beat that pervert’s face into the pavement. I spent a week now following this asshole around, beating every one of his pedo friends to hell, and this was gonna be my finest hour. I had it all planned. I knew his schedule, I knew where he ate, I knew what streets he was afraid to go down. This was _mine_.”

He couldn't help it and he didn't try, he started laughing. “The whole damn city's scared of _you_.”

“Oh fuck you! You know, I always thought this 'Big Man With A Gun’ act was you overcompensating. A white man with military grade weapons and a razor thin temper isn't something Harlem needs.”

“It's not my temper.”

“Oh really? Then what is it?”

“It's a callin'. I'm protectin' people, just like you.”

“You walk into fucking bars, clubs, hospitals with guns blazing, you could kill the wrong person one day.”

"Well maybe if you get there sooner, you could stop me."

You punched him again, this time really almost throwing his balance off. But you wouldn't stop. You kept punching and kicking until he was in a corner. The infamous Punisher, in a corner with his fists raised in a defensive position, you felt proud of yourself.

You stepped back and he wiped some blood from his nose with the back of his hand, then spat some out.

He knew what that was, you were showing him the fists that had Harlem's criminals terrified. You were marking your territory by bruising him. After a moment of staring at the ground, the military side of him attempting to be tactical, he walked towards you, posturing himself as bigger, and you still didn't show an ounce of fear. He grinned and held up your knife.

“You dropped this.” Confused, you took the knife back and re-holstered. “Far as I'm concerned the city needs both of us. Daredevil's not one for finishin' jobs.”

Was he trying to make an ally out of you? After you'd just beat him into a corner? You decided to approach this delicately, you weren't sure if he was just luring you in with false kindness while he loaded a bullet with your name on it.

“What a coincidence, neither is Luke Cage. He's too soft. He pulls punches. I guess he's thinking the blunt force trauma will do it's job."

Frank chuckled lowly, and you felt your defenses starting to calm. You had to remind yourself that this man was dangerous and word of mouth had you thinking he'd killed for less than the few punches you'd given him. “Fuck that shit. Let them beat the bastards up and throw them in jail and see how quickly they make bail and pass the business off to their second in-command, because there is _always_ a second in-command. They don't understand that, they think all criminals can be reformed.”

You shook your head. "Cage thinks the system will take over where he left off."

"Shit..."

"I know... He gave me the whole morality speech, not that it mattered. You're not gonna tell me not to bash a serial rapist's face in."

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you walked back over to the body and started digging through his coat pocket. Frank watched you with wide eyes.

“What the hell are you doin' leaving prints everywhere?”

You held up your hand. “Burned my prints off when I was a teenager. This bastard has a boss, and his boss gave him a note earlier tonight at a Thai restaurant on your turf.” You found the note and unfolded it, it gave the address of a safe house where he was headed. You rummaged through his jacket for a pen and wrote your own address underneath. “If you can find this guy by the end of tomorrow night, make his heart stop beating, and bring me his favorite fugly green paisley tie, I'll let you come to Harlem whenever you want and bash any number of heads.”

He took the note and shook his head, fixing his hand to crush the piece of paper. “Nah, I show up here and you break every bone in my face.”

"I coulda done that now, why waste time luring you in?"

In the distance, you heard sirens. Frank pulled you out of the alley. You broke free of his grip and you hid behind a dumpster near by until the police cars and ambulances passed. As they drove and the sirens became more distorted, you noticed Frank shielding you with his huge body. His black coat keeping you undetected by the police lights.

You turned to him. Your face inches from his now. You caught your breaths and he grinned an unexpectedly handsome grin at you. “Are you wearin' perfume?"

“Why the fuck are you asking?"

"It's just funny, Mauler. You're out here rearrangin' faces with Chanel No.5 dabbed on your neck."

"Not everyone's so comfortable sacrificing self-love for this job. Besides, I have a day job. I don't need to smell like blood all day." He stared at you, amused. You thought you would be more annoyed but you weren't. You found yourself laughing, and tried to suppress it as soon as it bubbled to the surface. "Thanks for the help."

You stood up and dusted yourself off, then started walking away. “You said if I kill this guy, I get to come back to Harlem?”

You turned back around and sighed. “Look, it's a chance to rid New York of a tumor, you taking it or not?”

He put it in his pocket. “You think you'd be alright seeing me again?”

“What does that matter?” you said, coldly. “As long as you aren't catching civilians in your cross-hairs, I'll have no reason to talk to you.”

“I don't kill people that don't deserve it,” he said. “But Harlem's all yours, and I wanna make sure I don't end up with those fists in my face again.”

You rolled your eyes. “That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me…”  You grabbed onto the ladder of a nearby fire escape, then started climbing up to the rooftop. “Get it done by tomorrow night and I'll decide if we're on speaking terms or not.”

* * *

 

The next night you were in your apartment, scoping out the address of your next target on your computer, when there was a knock. You weren't used to getting visitors at night, especially when you were out of uniform, so you guessed who it was.

You opened the door and Frank Castle was standing there in civilian clothes holding the bloody tie in his hand. There was blood splattered on his face and a small cut on his lip that looked like it hurt when he spoke.

And you kicked yourself for doubting him.

“You must really like Harlem,” you said, taking the tie with an impressed grin. “How many guards were there?”

“Not enough to save him.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You need someone to fix that cut before it gets infected? Or do you do your own repairs?”

He scratched the side of his shaved head. “Repairs? You make me sound like a goddamn robot.”

“Are you not one? I don't believe the Tin-Man has a heart.”

“Not much of one, no...”

You looked at him and swallowed your pride. “Sorry for talking shit last night, I'm not great around people.”

“Hey, I fucked with your target. I deserved it.”

You crossed your arms across your chest. “I don't feel comfortable having you in my apartment,” you told him. “But my mom raised me too well to not mend a wounded animal when I see it.”

As if on cue, a dog ran up behind your legs, it had a bandaged front leg. You were surprised when the dog didn't bark at him. He greeted the man with friendliness. Frank looked at it and looked at you.

“His name's Savior.”

“Good name.”

“Good dog.” You sighed and stood to the side to let Frank in. “It's bad enough you've seen me out of uniform, you know too much, just come in.”

He shook his head and took a step back. “It's just a cut.”

“I went to school to be a nurse, don't tell me you have no other injuries. Come in.”

You were right. There was a big knife wound burning his side that he'd mostly ignored on his way over to your place. With tension making his shoulders stiff, he slowly walked into your apartment, for the first but certainly not the last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Rhodey!!!!


	24. Staring Contest (Rhodey)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is short but i had fun wit it but also like.... it's 2 am so God only knows what this chapter looking like  
> sorry for the gap between updates, i've had fun things like three papers to write or whatever because i'm in college or whatever

 

> _Rhodey catches the reader checking him out  
>  _

* * *

 

Rhodey was a cruel man to work with.

When he smiled, he would do it with his entire face. He smelled like heaven. He dressed better than most men you knew, including most of the other Avengers. He had a great laugh and wit about him, with an intelligence that, much like an iceberg, went far deeper than the surface.

And he never caught you staring at him, not even once.

 _Ask him out, big head._ You thought. _He’s right there, you’re friends. You’re both single… Now’s the time. He’s making coffee. You could make coffee with him later, nah mean?_

While you were arguing with yourself, Rhodey said something that you assumed was a joke because he was laughing after he said it and the rows of white, perfectly kept teeth showed themselves like stars in the sky. You laughed too, just to be cautious. When he started laughing harder, you thought you’d done the right thing.

“You ain’t listening.”

You scoffed a little too hard. _Shit, he’s onto us. Girl, please…_ “I’m _so_ listening, Rhodey.”

He gave you a look that let you know that he knew you were lying, but kept talking nonetheless. “I’ve been told I make the perfect cup of coffee, you sure you don’t want some?” He raised an eyebrow and held his hand on the cabinet door. “Hmm?”

“Sure, I’ll have a cup.” _Be playful._ “I mean, no one else on this team knows how to make coffee, so yours is just perfect by default...”

“Is that shade?”

“It is indeed, colonel. It is indeed.”

“Has Tony ever given you his 'special' coffee, that’s pretty good.”

“Doesn’t he put whiskey in it?”

He nodded and took a sip of his coffee. The way he licked his lips before taking a sip had you feeling all kinds of different. If you had on pearls, they would be clutched. “That’s what makes it so good.”

He turned around to pour you a cup and you bit your lip watching him, but you also let out a low laugh in response to his joke that perhaps sounded thirstier than you meant for it to be. _Calm down. Calm down. Calm down._ You opened the cabinet to look for the sugar that he’d just put away, but you couldn’t find it. He cleared his throat and put his hand on your hip, moving past you to open the cabinet beside it and reveal the sugar you were searching for.

“_____________, you live here, right?” You became flustered. _Calmdowncalmdowncalmdowncalmdown…_ “Or were you too busy looking at my ass that whole time to remember where I put it?”

_BOY._

“Uh, well, you see…” You rubbed the back of your neck. _Lie!_ “I wasn’t staring at your ass.”

“Great response, very convincing.”

You rolled your eyes. “God, who are you? Tony?”

He rolled his tongue across the inside of his mouth and you felt it. You felt it in your bones, in your spirit, in your heart, in your panties. _You about to get it, girl._

“You’re really cute, you know that?”

“Ugh, _just_ cute?” you asked. Then you covered your mouth, because you didn’t mean for it to come out. _Shit._

He set down his coffee and walked over to you. “Yeah, you’re real cute for thinking you’re just staring at me and I’m not staring back.” He looked over your body with his eyes. “There’s a lot to stare at.”

_Well damn…_

“Where’d you get this game at, Rhodes?”

“South Philly. Where’d you get those curves from?”

You giggled like an idiot. All rational thought gone. You were completely on autopilot at that point. “My momma.”

He smiled. Again, one of those million dollar smiles that’d been infuriating you so much. “Well, since you’re not checking me out, I’m sure you wouldn’t be at all interested in coming back to my room. After finishing your coffee, of course.”

You grabbed your coffee mug and started chugging it down. Rhodey was almost impressed, but then he remembered that time you won an Asgardian mead drinking contest against every Avenger except Thor. That was slightly more impressive. He still thought of that as the moment he really fell for you.

When the mug was empty, you put it in the sink for someone else to deal with despite hearing your mother’s voice in your mind berating you for it. Then you grabbed his hand. “Alright, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Steve!!


	25. Talk (Steve)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lesson in the value of communication  
> this one's a bit scatterbrained because i am right now  
> the song mentioned in this chapter is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cwczm7z8xH0

 

> _Steve request for Brown Sugar and Honey. Turinia is a new super soldier and a new Avenger to be trained by Steve but is only 5'3 with a cranky attitude and a dislike for sunshine and happiness and Steve just thinks she's adorable. One day she over hears him talking about this "Swell girl with gold eyes, a river of curls, the face of an angel and body made for sinning" and "I'd do anything to call Turinia mine"so sam pushes her out of her hiding spot and "go get you that nice frozen Vanilla Man!"_

i made it neutral but kept the plot

* * *

 

You were something anyone could be afraid of. Just the first in a new generation of super soldiers who Steve and Bucky found just by coincidence roaming around New York. When they found you, you were in hiding from the people who gave you your powers. They offered you a place to stay in the Avengers facility, and eventually they offered you a position on the team.

You said no about fifteen times. Sam argued that the number was actually twenty-nine and a half, the half being the split moment you were considering saying no to the offer again before finally agreeing to join.

Unfortunately for you, someone who’d grown quite fond of the idea of wandering through the world without company, joining the Avengers meant joining a team. You were not fond of teams.

It wasn’t easy being around your teammates at first, but soon you opened up to them and they discovered that you had a personality that not everyone could love, but they did. You didn’t really have a filter. If something was bothering you, you didn’t hide it. You were a relative pessimist with a dry sense of humor, and an almost constant sense of sadness hanging over you.

Oh, and you weren’t a morning person, but they assigned _Steve Rogers_ of all people to train you every day at seven in the morning.

“You feeling up for a run today?” Steve asked you after you both did stretches.

You could feel your eyes rolling, but you weren’t sure if he saw. “No one’s ever up for a run, Steve.”

He laughed but you were completely serious.  “I feel you, but it might clear your head.”

You took a sip of your water and swished it around in your mouth before swallowing. “Running doesn’t actually clear my head. I doubt it clears yours either, be real. You and Sam are just giant masochists because you wake up before the sunrise and go running. I’d rather die.”

“Alright then, you up for sparring?”

“Finally, a language I can speak.” You walked over the mat and pulled your curls up and out of your face. “That language being ‘Square-The-Fuck-Up-ese’, and I’m fluent.”

Steve smirked. “You make that up yourself, ____________?”

You sighed and got into proper form. Steve was immensely impressed by how quickly you learned. He didn’t want to think too highly of his own abilities but, as a fighter, you really reminded him of himself.

“I’m just trying to get through the morning, as always.”

The truth was, you preferred Steve when you were sparring him. He seemed less restrained. He was a teacher who knew his opponents. He knew that the people you fought on missions would fight dirty. He knew they would grab at you, try to distract you, try to trip you when you fought, and that’s what he did. You fought like hell. Throwing blows until Steve couldn’t figure out which part of his body to guard. You used your weight against him, throwing all of you behind kicks and punches. He pulled you close, tight to him. You could feel him getting worn out, his heart racing, his breath down your spine. Since you were both super soldiers, you were of equal strength, so you knew pulling away from him when he had you in this position could only do so much.

“What’re you gonna do, ____________?” he demanded. “ _Show me_. Show me what you’re gonna do about it.”

You tried to ignore the part of you that was imagining him saying that in a far different context, and you reached back, hooking your arm around his neck and used all the weight and force you could muster to swing your leg up, kicking him in the face. He let you go and grabbed his jaw.

“Shit, when’d you get so flexible?”

“I dunno, when did you get so white?” You got back into starting position, and he got back into his. “Don’t get tired on me now. You made me wake up this fucking early, earn it.”

He swung for you and you dodged, punching him in the gut and then running behind him. He was quick to counter, hooking his arm around your shoulders, and lifting you, pinning you down to the mat with him on your back.

“Show me how to get out of this,” he said, this time into your ear.

You tried reaching up to grab at his face, but he pinned your hand down. “God, fuck you.”

“You can do this, I know you can.”

You growled and used your head this time, swinging it back into his forehead. While he was reacting to that, you freed your hands and turned, pinning him down on his back with your forearm. “Nice pep talk, Cap. Do people get blinded by the sunshine that’s constantly coming out of your ass?”

He smiled. “Good work, Agent.”

You couldn’t help the grin that crossed your face, although you really wish you could have. “Yeah, well...”

* * *

  _I don’t ever want to hate you so don’t show me your bed,_

_The only roads are cul-de-sacs, the only ends are dead_

Your music was so loud that you barely paid attention to the sound of your trainer walking behind you in the hallway. Steve tried calling your name twice before doing the stupid (but very “Steve”) thing and putting his hand on your shoulder. You immediately grabbed his wrist and flipped him on his back, pressing your foot into his chest before looking down and realizing who it was.

_I don’t ever want to hate you, it’s not part of the plan_

_So keep your charm where I can’t see it, and your hands where I can_

You sighed and pulled out your phone, pausing your music before you stepped away from Steve. You reached to help him up but he signaled that he was fine.

“Sorry.” You said. You pulled your headphones down around your neck and waited for him to stand up. “But to be fair, you probably shouldn’t be grabbing me.”

Steve dusted himself off. “Right.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Something you need from me, Steve? Or are you just congratulating me on putting Thor in a headlock yesterday?”

“I think Thor congratulated you enough for that.”

“Mmm, that’s cause he we had a little bet going and he won.”

This was usually the point in conversations with Steve where you’d find a quick exit and use it as soon as possible.

“That was a good flip,” Steve told you.

“Thanks, I learned it by watching Natasha…” You saw him thinking of something else to say, so you decided to step in. “If it’s not a big deal, Steve, I’m binge-watching _Peaky Blinders_ right now and I’d love to get back to that since training’s over for the day.”

He blinked. “Oh.. Well…That’s fine.” He cleared his throat. “Are you doing anything later?”

You looked up, thinking about it. “The usual. Calling my cousin, grabbing a pizza with Sam, playing with matches. Why?”

“It’s nothing, I just realized that I’ve never really talked to you outside of training.”

You chuckled. “Oh, and you want to?”

He shrugged. “It couldn’t hurt.”

Steve Rogers was fascinating to you despite your better judgement. You couldn’t help but see him as a puzzle. On one hand, when you did speak to him, you seemed to bounce off each other naturally, like satellites. It was hard to deny how well you complimented each other despite being so different. On the other hand, you _were_ very different. Steve chose to be a super soldier, you very much didn’t. He needed a team, you didn’t. He tried to approach everyone with some level of diplomacy and friendliness, you didn’t see the need for it.

Steve’s outlook was optimistic realism. He knew things could get worse but he was always hoping the end result was sunny, you weren’t that way. If things appeared to be getting worse, they were getting worse, and you thought anyone who felt differently was holding the fight against whatever was making things worse even harder.

You licked your lips and slowly raised your headphones up to your ears. “I don’t think I’m your type of person, Steve.”

You walked away from him, but you didn’t catch the moments after, where he stayed in the hallway trying to solve the same puzzle that you were trying to solve every time you looked at him.

* * *

You and Sam got back from the pizza place pretty late. Sometimes when you were out with him, you’d find yourself rambling and lose track of time, Sam didn’t mind because at least you were talking to him at all. Before you left, you’d promised Bucky a few slices, so you snuck through the halls quietly trying to get to his room.

“He’s probably sleep,” you whispered.

“He’s not,” Sam replied. “That boy don’t sleep.”

You sighed. “Join the club, Buck, join the club…”

You made it to his room, the light was on, and the door was open. You were about to walk in and knock on the doorway, when you saw the back of Steve’s head. You quickly pulled Sam back around the corner, covering your mouth and shaking your head.

“Steve’s in there,” you whispered.

“Uh… So?”

You scoffed. “Oh, like I’m going in there with Captain Friendly.”

Sam chuckled. You told him all about your situation with Steve while you were at dinner and his one suggestion for an explanation was that you had feelings for Steve. When the suggestion not only didn’t shock you, but made you go quiet, Sam smiled from ear to ear.

“I’m not saying you’re right,” you told him.

He shook his head. “You’re not saying anything, but that says everything.”

“I’ve thought about it… But I don’t think that’s it.”

“Why not?”

“We’re too different, y’know? I feel like I’d bum the old man out.” Sam raised an eyebrow. “Oh, _what_?”

He shrugged. “Nothing, I just find it kinda funny that you said you would bum him out and not that he’d do something to you. It’s almost like you don’t think he’d make a bad boyfriend.”

“Sam Wilson, respectfully I’m begging you never to say that to me again.”

So, here you were, hiding outside of Bucky’s room because the man you may have been harboring feelings for was inside with him. You weren’t helping your case with Sam, that was for sure.

Then the night took a turn when you heard Steve mention your name.

Your eyes grew wide, and you turned your head around the corner slightly, just to hear what he was saying. It was slightly muffled by the wall but you knew you’d be able to hear clearly if you just focused.

“... I don’t know how to talk to her, it’s driving me crazy.”

“________________ is really not that hard to talk to, Steve. Why are you making this such a big deal?”

“Because… I dunno… Have you _seen_ her?”

Bucky laughed. “I saw her earlier today.”

“Not what I meant, Bucky.”

“Really? Then what did you mean?”

Steve took a deep breath, then started describing the way you looked to him in great detail. Everything from your eyes he could “stare into for hours” to your “perfect” hair to your body “made for sinning” which distracted him so often during training. He described you with such reverence that you almost thought he was reading from a script, but he wasn’t.

You covered your mouth and turned to Sam, who gave you a knowing look and a nudge with his elbow. You shook your head and he nudged you again.

“Look, as far as white men go, that’s a pretty good one, so I’d go for it if I were you.”

Before you could protest again, he nudged you hard enough to push you forward, then the talking stopped. You put on a brave face and stepped into the room, knocking on the doorway as you’d planned to do before.

“Sorry to, uh, interrupt.” You said, avoiding Steve’s caught in the headlights stare. You handed the pizza box over to Bucky. “As promised.”

Bucky smiled at you then turned to Steve. “Thanks, doll.”

“... Night, y’all.”

You turned to leave, and you were about to open the door to your own room when you felt Steve’s hand on your shoulder again. You slowly turned around until you found yourself chest to chest with him, trying to keep your racing heart from beating too loud.

“Can we talk now?” he asked. “It can’t wait.”

Over his shoulder you saw Bucky pull Sam into his room. “Wilson, they’re having a moment.”

“You think I don’t know that?”

They quickly shut the door and you realized that there were no easy exits from from this situation. You weren’t even sure you wanted to find one anymore. You turned to Steve, whose eyes never left you, and nodded. “Yeah, we can talk.”

He pointed to your door. “In there?”

You didn’t take your eyes from his, even as you turned the knob and opened the door to your room. “Is there something you need Steve?”

He took your hand. “I think so.” Your breath hitched in your throat. "God, you're beautiful."

You took your hand back and crossed your arms. "If you think I'm beautiful, why haven't you told me before?"

"You never want to talk to me."

Your cheeks felt hot and it was getting harder and harder to play hard to get with Steve. "Well, I think you are... adorable." You told him. "And if you think I'm beautiful then you should show me."

"Show you?"

"Yeah, Steve." You played with the hem of his tight shirt and started walking backwards into your room. “Show me what you’re gonna do about it.”

Always the man of action, he was on you with a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. The door shut behind you. Suddenly you found yourself tangled in knots with a man you never thought you’d be able to hold a conversation with. When you were done, you traced lazy lines across his chest and you two spent happy hours talking.

Turns out you weren’t so different after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: T'Challa!!!!!


	26. Boyfriend (T'Challa)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's like the big time rush song, y'know?  
> SORRY this is so late and rushed and corny, i was busy finishing a novel (no really) and i got a little distracted  
> BUT  
> i'm here  
> i will try my BEST to get shit done quicker, i've already started the next two chapters and the rest of the requests are super cute even though some of y'all are nasty as hell, but i dig it

 

> _Can I request a fic where t'challa and reader go out to dinner and they run into her ex? And then t'challa introduces himself as her bf? I was gonna say husband but I don't think that would have made that much sense lol. Thanks btw_

* * *

 

“T’Challa, quick question.”

“Yes, dear.”

“If this isn’t a date, why did you take me to the nicest restaurant in town, get a quiet candlelit seat in the back, and then personally request a red wine that has seen the interior of more bedrooms than a Marvin Gaye song?”

T’Challa smiled that sly smile that let you know that you were onto him. “Friends don’t do that in America?”

“You and I both know that friends don’t do that in America.”

He raised his glass. “Well, let us be the first.”

You raised your own glass and clinked it with yours. “No matter how hard you try to make this less of a date, I’ll keep calling it one, deal?”

He laughed. “Deal.”

You hadn’t known him too long, just a few months. You worked for Stark, and jokes about that turned into two hour conversations about everything from the duties of a monarch to your Netflix watch list.

Of course you were starting to fall for him but, up to this point, he’d treated your relationship as a sort of work marriage. Whenever he was around the Avengers facility, he made sure to find you and spend time with you, and you wanted to do much more than simply ‘spend time’ with T’Challa. However, you were having some difficulty thinking of ways to ask a literal king to be your boyfriend.

You both took long sips of your wine and you quickly filled your glass back up. He watched you with eyebrows raised. “Long day?”

“Not any longer than the average day,” you said. “I’m just so glad it’s Friday and I don’t have to see Tony for two entire days. I can just sit back in my underwear with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and catch up on American Gods.”

The waiter arrived with your food and you tried to look a bit more like you belonged in a restaurant like this. T’Challa was, one hundred percent, paying for everything, but you didn’t need everyone else knowing that.

You looked around the restaurant at everyone else there. You recognized a few faces from Tony’s circle. Wealthy, a bit pretentious, not really his friends, therefore not really yours. Speaking of Tony, you were silently thanking him for suggesting you wear “that dark blue number” to dinner, because you were working it, and T’Challa was drinking it up almost as much as the wine.

“Well, I return to Wakanda in three days, perhaps you could free some time in your busy schedule for me.”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t keep the grin off your face no matter how hard you tried. “I’ll see what I can do, but I’m three episodes behind.”

“I always miss you when I leave, you know, _______________.” T’Challa said. “You are the one treasure my country doesn’t have.”

“But it ain’t a date…”

T’Challa smirked and was about to say something further when he noticed your expression dramatically shift. Your eyes went from playfulness to discontent, and they followed someone as they made their way through the restaurant.

“Goddamnit…”

“What is it?”

“My ex-mistake.” You looked down, hoping he wouldn't notice you. “White guy, navy suit, brown hair, beard, behind you.”

T’Challa carefully turned and looked at him. “Is it right to assume this did not end amicably?”

“The last thing I said to him was 'Go fuck yourself’, so yeah.” You sighed. “I’m sorry, it doesn't matter, I'm here with you. This night's about us and our not-date.”

“I understand your discomfort, I've had my fair share of similar break ups.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Giving or receiving?”

He chuckled. “A bit of both…” He watched you smile and felt that it was time to act and ask the question that was actually on his mind. “I want to take you back home with me.”

If you were drinking something, you would have choked. It took you a minute for your brain to process and dissect each word in that sentence for it to make some sort of sense. _Home_. And you know what he meant by that. If he took you Home, you would be a rarity, an American on Wakandan soil. Americans were rarely used to speaking with Wakandans, let alone being _in_ Wakanda. The entire time you knew T’Challa, he would tell you stories about his country, it seemed so wondrous, so grand, had you not seen pictures of it once or twice, you would have sworn it was fictional. T’Challa wanted you to experience it for yourself, and experience it with him.

“Home… are you allowed to do that?”

“Of course, if I desire to do so, which I do.”

“I’d love to, T’Challa, but my job…”

“I'm sure Stark can survive without you for a week or two.”

You weren't so sure. You loved your boss but he was an impulsive, hot-headed narcissist with often too much time on his hands and you told him that to his face, which is why he liked you more than the other employees in the facility.

Before you could respond, a wide pair of blue eyes caught yours. “______________?”

You groaned. “Oh my God…”

“______________, is that you?”

In the blink of an eye, your ex was making his way over to your table. He'd come with someone, and she seemed about as annoyed as you were that this was happening. When he arrived, he adjusted his tie and smiled that bright, dumb smile at you.

“Wow, you look amazing…”

You crossed your arms. “Yes, I do.”

“How long's it been, beautiful? Two, three years?”

“Two, it’s only three if you count the year you spent in China not returning my calls.”

He frowned. “I'm sorry, I was an ass. I'm better now, though. You look like you're better, too.”

Noticeably irritated, you shifted in your chair. “Um, Justin, I'm kind of in the middle of a big conversation right now.”

He turned to T’Challa and his brows raised. “Oh…  Wait… Aren't you-”

“T'Challa, king of Wakanda, I'm her boyfriend.”

It was news to you, you stared across the table at him with an incredulous expression as he shook hands with your ex. Justin grinned politely at the both of you.

“I'm Justin, _____________ and I dated a while back. She's an amazing woman.”

“You didn't treat me like I was amazing.”

He shrugged. “I was an idiot, but now you have a _king_ … wow, ______________.”

You kept staring at T’Challa. “I know, it's really crazy.”

Justin ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t say you don’t deserve it, Christ… good for you two. I’m in a relationship now, too. It’s only been a few weeks but I think I’m happy. Good to see you happy, too.”

You grinned. “Nice to know we both moved on, I guess.”

“I guess… Well, I’ll see you later, I’m not gonna take any more time away from your date.”

You waved goodbye to him then kicked T’Challa under the table. He had this shit-eating grin on his face that only made you more annoyed. “Why the _fuck_ did you do that?”

“I thought he would leave sooner.”

You rolled your eyes. “T’Challa, you can’t just go around introducing yourself as my boyfriend, people will talk.”

“And?”

“ _And_ you’re not my boyfriend!” He stared at you for a length of time that made you slightly flustered. “You’re not my boyfriend, T’Challa. You’ve made that very clear to me.”

“I made it clear at first because I was trying to convince myself…” he admitted. “But I am terrible at hiding my feelings, especially the ones I have for you. I wanted you to return with me to Wakanda so that I could be comfortable enough to ask if you would be mine.”

You sat back, trying to keep your jaw from dropping. You took a quick drink and tried thinking for a moment, which was always difficult to do around T’Challa. It was etched on his face so distinctly, this wasn’t where he wanted to ask you, this wasn’t how he’d planned it. He had it mapped out in his mind, the places in Wakanda he would take you, the wonders he’d show you, all in an elaborate plot to get you to be his girlfriend. For the first time since you’d met him, he seemed nervous, because his carefully woven plans seemed thrown off.

“How long will we be there?” you asked him. His eyes questioned you. “Actually, I should ask, how long will I be there? I need to know what to tell Tony.”

“You will come with me?”

“I want you to ask me the way you wanted to. I know what my answer is already, but still...”

He smiled. “One week.”

You gave him a quick nod of confirmation. “One week it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Frank Castle!!


	27. The Quiet Stranger (Punisher)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HIRE ME TO WRITE THE NEW PUNISHER COMICS, MARVEL, I'LL BE HERE, WRITE MY ASS A CHECK

> _Brown Sugar & Honey Request: Frank/Reader - You are a waitress at the diner he stops at. It's late and the diner is empty, so you were looking forward to just relaxing until closing, but then Frank enters. At first you are annoyed, but then... Timeline wise, it mirrors the scene with Karen... And/Or: You arrive at the diner late night for a pick up as you are too lazy to cook anything. You wait for your food by the counter and notice Frank. You recognize him and he notices this. What does he do? _

the second one is the one this is

* * *

You really never learned.

_Don’t go out in Hell’s Kitchen too late or you’ll run into someone you don’t wanna fuck with._

The problem with someone trying to give you that advice was you went where you damn well pleased, when you damn well pleased, if you damn well pleased. Plus, you were hungry, and it wasn’t like running to the local diner in your leggings was going to attract the attention of a serial killer, even if your (white) friends who didn’t live in New York very much thought that it would.

It was raining pretty hard. You’d slipped your hood over your hair with some added help from a slightly battered umbrella that was doing just enough for you not to throw it away yet.

Even with the storm blurring the city’s dark streets, you could see the diner’s bright lights coming up in front of you and you sighed a breath of relief that the place was still opened.

Like many things in New York, the diner was generations old, it had a sort of old school charm, as if any moment Captain America would stroll in for a soda pop.

The waitress at the counter looked tired. She walked up to you and pulled the pencil from behind her ear and you gave her a small grin. “Sorry for keeping you up.”

She laughed. “You ain’t the only one, sweetie.”

The waitress pointed her pencil towards the only other person in the diner, a man sitting alone with a cup of black coffee and a half-eaten something that looked like it was mostly meat. He was looking out the window, then straight ahead, but never at you.

“He a regular?” you asked the waitress.

She shook her head. “Regular? No. But he comes sometimes, orders the same thing, sits alone.”

“Fun.”

You ordered and she stuck the order in the kitchen’s window, then turned back to you. Something told you she hadn’t dug much conversation out of Ol Baseball Cap Wearing Ass back there. “What brings you here?” she asked you.

You shrugged. “I live by myself, got hungry, don’t like cooking after midnight.”

“You know, I’ve lived here my whole life but I can’t picture being by myself. You new to the city?”

You nodded. “Relatively.”

“Bad time to be in Hell’s Kitchen, it’s getting a little nuts around here.”

“What…” You glanced at her name tag. “You scared of the Devil, Helen?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I’m not scared of him, and I’m really not scared of that other guy. The white guy with all the machine guns barrelling through gangs like it’s a fuckin’ bowling alley? What are they calling him around here?”

“The Punisher.”

You laughed. “Sounds like a fourteen year old’s gamer tag...”

You look back at the man sitting alone. He quickly turned to hide the fact that he was just staring at you, but you were never one to let people off the hook for that.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of The Punisher.” You said. “You’re built like an apartment complex. Not just a house, my guy, a full fuckin’ apartment.”

He didn’t respond but you swore you saw a bit of a smirk on his face. He was resting his elbows on the table, not nervous but guarded, ready. It was a quiet night, unlike most in this neighborhood, but this guy was ready for a fight, maybe he was born that way.

A closer look showed you that his knuckles were bruised. The deep purple and red meant he’d hit something or someone until he was raw. There were a few matching bruises on his face as well.

“You’re a real party…”

He seemed to notice the slight nervousness in your voice and he looked up at you. The face was unmistakable. Frank Castle. The Punisher. The guy you were just mocking was sitting in the diner with you the entire time. The man who pushed gangs in Hell’s Kitchen into hiding just listened to you reduce him.

Man, you had to learn to shut up.

He didn’t really react at all at first, he just stared at you. The stare wasn’t menacing or meant to intimidate, it just seemed a bit… intrigued.

You turned back towards the counter. Helen the waitress brought your food and coffee out to you. You ordered to-go, so you assumed you would have time to make a break for it in case Frank tried something. But, before you could reach the door, the rain picked up outside and a flash of lightning hit the sky. Helen whistled. “Sure you wanna go back out there right now?”

You looked outside, then looked back at Frank. Your curiosity, as always, got the best of you.

“No, I’ll wait it out,” you said. You sat across from Frank to his surprise and took a sip of your coffee. “My umbrella is not gonna last out there.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I noticed it was on it’s last leg.”

You pulled your hood down. He seemed to study you, memorizing your face down to the last detail. You couldn’t tell if he was making you a target or putting you on some Don't Kill list.

He started chuckling to himself. “‘Built like a full fuckin’ apartment’, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly. “Sometimes my brain can’t stop my big lips from flapping.” You stuck a fry in your mouth. “So you _do_ have a sense of humor…”

“Not much… Not much anymore.”

You put your hand up. “Don’t tell me your dark backstory, that’ll just ruin the mystique for me.”

“Wasn’t plannin' on it.”

“Good.”

“You live alone?” he asked. "Don't look like a fighter."

You laughed. “Great question to ask right away...”

“You just told her that.”

“Yeah, I live alone. My family’s out of state. Most of my friends are, too.”

“Had any trouble?”

You shook your head. Aside from the occasional creep at a bar or cat-caller or police officer, you were pretty much left alone. The city wouldn’t ever feel completely safe to you, but you didn’t know a place that did.

“I’m a smart tough girl,” you told him. “I can handle pepper spray like a master.”

He licked his lips. “Just askin’...”

“Just asking? Really? Fuck, I thought you were gonna offer to be my bodyguard.”

He shook his head. “Not a bodyguard.”

“No, you deal in body bags, right?”

“Not out to save the world either, just tryna clean it up a little.”

You rolled your eyes. "They should call you The Cleaner."

Frank tongue rolled across the inside of his cheek. To your surprise you didn't feel uncomfortable sitting across from a guy with a body count. But that was because you knew better than the journalists from the Avengers part of town who were trying to paint Frank as a rogue. 

“I really was rooting for you after you cleared the Irish out,” you admitted. “One of them was my landlord, used to be real creepy, tried to flirt with me. It never worked. It was the usual ‘I’m white and never been with a Black girl’ type of shit.”

“You were rooting for me… That implies that I'm somethin' worth rooting for.”

“Hey, maybe I'm crazy but I felt safer before Daredevil got in your way.” You smiled. “I mean that.”

He looked away from you. “That why you aren't scared?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Should I be?”

“Yeah, I think you should.”

You looked at him again, this time as closely as he looked at you. He was hard. Hard jaw, fixed eyes, nose that had seen a few fights. But you couldn't help but be drawn into the softness, the part of him that didn’t seem scary, but perhaps a little tormented. But you had to stop yourself because you were starting to sound like one of those people who wrote love letters to men on death row.

“Would you hurt me?” you asked him bluntly.

He looked at you again, and the softness showed itself. Not a muscle moved, but the eyes told a far different story than the face was trying to tell. The Punisher was human after all.

“You haven’t done anything that would warrant me trying to hurt you.”

Feeling slightly relieved, you felt your shoulders release some tension and you continued eating. Then you decided to try being funny with him again.  “Well, since I’ve already run my mouth into a ditch tonight, you should know that I’m more likely to sit on your face than run from it.”

For a split second he glanced at you, considering it. Then he cleared his throat. “Not really in the right place for that right now.”

“I'm kidding... mostly. Besides, there’s no right place or wrong place, bruh, it’s all mindset.”

The rain started to slow down. You closed your to-go box and got your umbrella ready. Frank stared out the window, and you could just hear your friends, family, and ancestors screaming for you not to do what you were about to do.

You really, _really_ never learned.

You pulled out your receipt and a pen you kept in your bag just in case. You wrote out your number and address, then slid it across the table to him. He took one look and slid it back.

“Have you lost your damn mind?” he asked you.

You lowered your voice to make sure that Helen couldn’t hear. “It’s called a safe house and people who shoot people typically have a few of them.” You slid it back to him. “I’m offering you mine.”

“Why?”

“You make Hell’s Kitchen safer and, well, I’m nothing if not hospitable to public servants.”

Before he could slide it back to you, you stood from the booth. “Plus, you don’t look like you laugh much and I’ve made you do it, what? Twice tonight?” You bit your lip and pulled your hood over your head. “Feels like you owe me.”

You said goodbye to Helen and left the diner and Frank. He looked down at your address and then looked out at you, keeping a close eye, making sure he didn’t wanna run out and walk you home.

He talked himself out of that as quickly as he could. But when he needed a safe house, your door was the first one he knocked on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Luke! Luke! Luke! Luke!


	28. Coffee (Luke Cage)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you already know the fuck's going on  
> but, in case you don't, it's gratuitous smut

 

> _Oh, request request! Luke saves you from a villain and while he's fighting, you ask him out for "coffee"_

* * *

You hadn’t planned on the gun to your head but it was one of those nights.

“This was Shades’s idea, right?” you asked the man holding the gun. “Mariah’s too clean for this kind of reciprocation.”

The man holding the gun pressed a little harder. He knew you weren’t going to try and run so you couldn’t quite figure out why that power move was necessary. “We’re not gonna kill you if you give us the money.”

“Money’s already fucking spent. I needed it for rent. Y’all don’t want homeless people servin’ drinks, shit ain’t a good look.”

“You gon pay back what the fuck you owe! We know you been taking more than $100.”

You rolled your eyes slowly. “Alight, I stole more than that. I’m shocked it took y'all this long to figure that out, but here we are. Money is money and I’m the best girl you got in that club so I think I deserve a raise. Besides, nigga, if I had to steal it in the first place, what makes you think I can pay your dumb asses back?” You heard him take the safety off, unaware that it had been on in the first place. You thought you would be scared if you ever ended up like this, but you just felt inconvenienced.  “Look, you don’t want to do this.”

“And why not?”

“Because I asked nicely. And a rooftop’s not ideal. You want me to disappear you gotta do it quietly. It’ll all bounce back to Mariah if you don’t. Then Shades will make a bullet bounce back off your bald ass head.”

The gunman and his associate exchanged a look. He put the safety back on and you let out a breath. His associate stood in front of you, pulling out a zip tie. For some reason, you weren’t afraid as you thought you should have been. A strange anticipation built, as if you knew there was someone out there waiting to save you, and you just bought them time to find you.

“Stand up.”

You did as you were told and your wrists were bound. You and your big mouth were led down the stairwell and out into an alley, then the gunman held you close like you were his girlfriend as you walked through the park. You felt his gun brush against your ass and scoffed.

“As if.”

“You’re not my type.”

You smirked. “White girls, huh?” He pressed the barrel to your spine. “I’ll shut the fuck up, I guess.”

In the dark and quiet, when you felt that you were all alone in the world, you heard someone clear their throat. You turned to the sound and a smile grew on your face, happier than any you’d done before.

“Something tells me the lady would prefer different company.”

The gunman raised his gun up and his eyes grew wide when Luke Cage appeared. He started shaking, but took the safety off anyway. You used that moment to elbow him in the gut and he accidentally pulled the trigger and shot his partner in the shoulder. You ran behind Luke.

The gunman charged for Luke, he tried pistol whipping him but the momentum of the hit to the solidness of Luke’s face sent a painful shock to his wrist. Luke gripped it tight, shattering some of the bones. His gun fell and Luke stepped on it, cracking the barrel.

“He try to take something from you?”

You shook his head and figured honesty would get you out of this. “They were ordered to kill me. Mariah found out I was stealing.”

Luke looked back with an eyebrow raised. “Mariah Dillard? ___________, you stole from Mariah Dill-” The gunman tried hitting Luke with his other hand, so Luke lifted him up by his face. “Tell Mariah it’s been dealt with.”

The gunman whimpered and nodded. When Luke released him, he ran off, leaving his bleeding partner behind. Luke pulled out his phone and called for an ambulance.

“So it’s true, you really don’t kill.” you said.

“I really don’t.”

“Chivalrous… Probably stupid, but chivalrous.”

“Mind telling me how you managed to steal from Harlem’s Paradise?” he asked, breaking the zip ties.

“Glad to see you too, Luke. It’s been a while.” You rubbed your wrists. “You know how it is. I’ve been behind on my rent. I’m paying some medical bills for a friend of mine. I needed the cash. Mariah refused to give me a raise so… c’est la vie.”

“You ever thought about getting a new job?”

“Judging me will get you nowhere. We can’t all have superpowers.” You sighed. “Can you walk me home though? I have no money for a cab.”

“Sure.”

Luke started walking with you. He put his hands in his pockets and you observed him. It was weird seeing the legend up close. It was weirder to think that you were co-workers before he became the neighborhood watch. You’d always kind of had a thing for him but the bullet-proof skin and super strength threw you through as much of a loop as anyone else.

“I never stole nothing before, I _swear_.” you told him. “Are you turning me in?” He shook his head. “Good, because I know Mariah’s hooked up with a few cops and I’m not about to give a statement to someone who’ll take me for a ride under her orders.”

Luke nodded, understanding completely. “I’ve seen you struggling before, you know I won’t judge you.”

You rubbed a knot in the back of your neck. “I need Earth, Wind & Fire, a back massage, and a sweater.”

He laughed then looked back at you. “After being held at gunpoint all you need is a spa day?”

You giggled. “Luke, you know I’m used to bullshit by now.”

“Bullshit adds up.”

“Yeah it does… but that’s why guys like you exist. You’re Hood Thor, destroyer of bullshit.”

“Did you just call me Hood Thor?”

“I mean… you ain’t got the hammer but like…”

“Not sure I need it.”

“See? You get it. _Hood Thor_. Sorry you can’t be the first Black Avenger.”

“I don’t wanna be an Avenger,” he said. “If I can stay here and lay low and keep helping people like you, I’ll be good.”

You looked behind you. Mariah and Shades were watching you now, there was no doubt about that, especially once word got out about Luke saving you, they’d know you were really trouble. “You think they’ll come back for me?”

Luke shrugged. “They might… But I’ll be there.”

You smiled. “You can’t be everywhere, y’know? You don’t have that power, last time I checked.”

“Hey, you let me in and I’ll stand by the door.”

You scraped your teeth across your bottom lip. “Let you in?”

You stopped walking at a corner and he turned to you, face calm and resolute as ever. God, if he was any finer they could have statues made in his image. Books would be written about the details of his all too perfect face.

“I don’t mean it like that.”

“Well, why don’t you?” you asked. “You always looked so cute washing dishes, you know? All the girls wanted you, even if they didn’t show it.”

He grinned. If you ever decided to tell anyone about this, it would make a great story. You didn’t think your flirting would get anywhere, at least not that night, until he asked, “You wanna go get coffee?”

Surprised, your brows rose and you stepped closer to him. “Coffee, huh? You do this with every girl you save?”

“No, I’m just offering a cup of coffee to a friend… no strings attached.”

“Mmm…”

“It’s up to you.”

You laughed. “You think you slick, but you’re not. Regardless, the answer is yes.” You fluttered your lashes and tried to feign innocence. “But don’t try anything with me tonight, I’m _traumatized_ , y’know? Someone tried to kill me.”

“Of course.”

* * *

 

Needless to say, your “traumatized” ass was opportunistic. As in, as soon as you had the opportunity, Luke Cage was in your bedroom. He was kissing you. His huge, unbreakable hands were all over you. All incidents of the night temporarily forgotten.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and he picked you up, setting your back on the wall. You broke the kiss to lift off his shirt, and ran your hands across his hard shoulders. It was like he was built to break you, and tonight you were just praying that he would.

His hands went up your thighs, reaching for panties but finding none. He quirked a brow.

“You’re welcome,” you said. “One less obstacle.”

His lips went to your jaw, your neck, your shoulder. You wondered if you could leave scratches on his shoulders. You wondered if you were dripping down your thighs by now. All the erotica in the world didn’t prepare you for the groan that would leave him when he reached between your thighs and his fingers were suddenly exactly where you needed them to be.

He circled your dripping entrance with his fingers and you moaned softly in his ear. Soft, but still so vocal. He was really starting to love your motormouth. His thumb brushed your clit and the noise you made was undignified and borderline pornographic. He practically laughed at you, pressing a finger into your entrance just to start.

Maybe he _would_ end up breaking you.

His finger slipped inside of you, slowly. Pulling out and slipping in until you were ready for a second, and even then you weren’t truly ready. You whined because you knew he was teasing you, you just fucking knew. He was loving it, too. Basking in the fact that he had you practically pinned to the wall, he had your body careening closer and closer to the edge, craving something more than his fingers. You hated needing anyone, but shit, you needed him.

“F-Fuck, Luke, come on…” you whispered, sounding completely wrecked. “Please, just… _please_.”

He pulled his fingers out and you felt empty, but you were in such a daze that you barely heard his zipper go down and his pants fall. All you saw was him. He picked you up and let you stand as he stepped out of his jeans. You pulled the zipper of your dress down, letting the cool air conditioning hit your sweat-slicked skin and cover you in goosebumps.

Then he was on you again. He used his knee to part your thighs, his own brushing against your clit in a motion that made you back arch. You’d make it to the bed eventually, but he couldn’t keeps his hands or his lips off of you. His hands would roam and his lips would follow. He unclasped your bra letting his thumb play with one perked nipple while his mouth teased the other, taking his sweet time with each, winding you up to the point where you were practically screaming begging for him.

You could feel his erection pressing against your stomach, you rolled your hips against him and he moaned. Your arousal made you bold, you grabbed his face and told him exactly what you wanted.

“ _Fuck me_.”

He held you steady, lifting you slightly off of him. He kissed you hungrily until you moaned at the feeling of his tip at your entrance. He pulled you down on him slowly, letting you adjust. All you could think about was how full you were. You hadn’t done much yet but he already had you fucked up beyond belief.

You held onto his shoulders, feeling the smooth skin under your grip, you buried your head in his neck. He smelled warm, like a bonfire, like cinnamon, not what you expected a hero like him to smell like. You loved it. You loved that he was so kind to you, so soft. But you wanted him to know you could handle what he was holding back from you.

Once fully seated, he kissed your shoulders, waiting for the okay from you to move. You were still adjusting. Your sensitive body was already reacting and squeezing around him, you weren’t going to last for much longer.

“Sweet Christmas…”

“Move,” you whispered, and he obliged.

Deep, slow strokes at first. Bodies so close you could feel his heartbeat. Close enough for his pelvis to rub against your clit. He never pulled out too far, even as he sped up. He kept that closeness, whispering into your ear.

You could feel yourself being pulled over the edge. Your body was tensing from head to toe, and you were ready. You moved your hips with his, trying to reach your peak, reaching, and reaching, and reaching until-

He pulled out of you.

You almost wanted to cry, you were _so_ close. He had you like putty in his hands, carrying you over to the bed and climbing on top of you.

“What… the fuck?”

“Patience.”

“What _the_ fuck?”

“Shh…”

He kissed you again and suddenly you were no longer upset. He pushed your legs up, testing your flexibility, seeing what he could possibly do to make this any better. He pushed his way into you once more, slowly again, but with more ease this time. You realized that he was at an angle that none of your other partners had ever managed to get to, the perfect angle, the one that would have you seeing stars. All he had to do was move.

And move he did.

You wanted to sing. He filled you, hitting your best spot, and making sure he didn’t ignore your clit. _Where he learn that at?_ You wondered. _Does it matter?_   You didn’t care how you looked, how you sounded, or who heard. This was a masterful dick down and you were going to let Luke know it.

It was hard to drag your nails down his bullet-proof skin. But you dug in as deep as you could, just trying to hold onto something. You were approaching your climax again, and this time he wouldn't pull out. He would keep going. He would feel your walls clench around him tonight. He wanted you, he needed you.

“Cum for me.”

And when you did, you came hard. Your entire body released that tension, shaking, squeezing tears out. He kept going. When you began to come back to your senses you realized that your headboard was cracking into your drywall, but that would have to wait.

He came with a moan of your name, pulling out just in time. You had a smart comment about him getting your sheets dirty but he looked so damn good on top of you, catching his breath after fucking you into the mattress, that you forgot it.

You laid there together for a moment and stared up at the ceiling. “So… Can I call you when I need you or do I have to wait for you to show up?” you asked. “Because… if it’s the latter… I’m gonna be so mad.”

He laughed. Pulling up to kiss you. “Call me whenever. Whether you need me or not.”

You smiled. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Pietro fuckin Maximoff, thank God and Jesus


	29. To Be Alone With You (Pietro)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't written pietro in so long, this felt nice as hell, even if it turned out a little angstier than i thought it would be  
> also tbh this woulda been out earlier had the ragnarok trailer not dropped, so send your complaints to taika waititi (please don't, i want him to like me)

> _can you do a pietro imagine in which he's in love with this sassy superhero (she has some of the same powers as wanda) and he's trying to ask her out but he keeps changing the subject and being awkward_

* * *

You and Pietro Maximoff were best friends. Slightly vain, extremely snarky, and powerful best friends.

When you were recruited into The Avengers, you took to each other like magnets. You had matching confidence, but also matching vulnerability. You came in without a family to look after, but you understood his protectiveness of Wanda and quickly developed a protectiveness of him. Most time spent off the field was spent with each other, cracking jokes, eating anything in sight, and destroying Tony’s clean facility with joy.

That friendship extended onto the field. He knew your moves so well that he could follow them up with his lightning speed. If someone hurt either of you, they’d be asking for a very, _very_ painful retaliation.

But there was a problem in your relationship.

Pietro was super flirtatious, he could charm the pants off of some girl after a mission, blending English with his mother tongue in a masterclass on seduction. Each time the girls would melt without fail. He had no real preferences, the girls he talked to varied in race, age, height, and weight. Pietro, you discovered, could probably charm the robes off of a nun.  

But, with you, the words would tangle in his throat. His smooth demeanor would falter when you batted your eyelashes at him. Sometimes he would just stare at you, he daydreamed about kissing you and telling you how he felt so often that Wanda outright refused to be in a room with you two unless there was business at hand.

Pietro was in love with you, head over heels. It passed infatuation a while ago. He burned whenever you went out on dates with someone else. His stomach turned with jealousy when you flirted with your other teammates. He had no idea how to express this, and he had no idea that you actually felt the same. 

You were far better at hiding your feelings for Pietro than he was at hiding his feelings for you, but they were there. He was your first friend on the team. The one you depended on when you felt low. Watching him flirt with other girls hurt you, but you didn't want him to be unhappy or feel pressured into returning your feelings, so you buried them, and accepted your best friend as he was: your best friend.

Pietro was not nearly as keen on accepting that you were just friends. Sometimes he would work himself up to asking you out. He’d hold tight to that inch of courage and go up to you the way he always did. “Sunce, how are you today?”

You were wrapping your hands to spar with Thor, when he stepped on the treadmill next to you. You looked up at him from behind your eyelashes and focused on your hands. “I’ve been better. I lost a bet so now I have to spar a god… So actually, I’ve been way better.”

“He won't know what hit him."

You snorted. “Actually he will: Me.”

Pietro licked his lips. “How long will the fight take?”

Thor’s belly laugh echoed off the gym’s walls and you winced. “He’s in a good mood so I think I’ll probably last about two minutes.”

He laughed. “I think you could take him.”

“I mean… that’s blatantly false, but neither of us are allowed to use our powers in this fight so I suppose we’ll see.” You stood up and started stretching. “I’d feel a lot better if you were watching me.”

He felt it. The nervousness was starting to bubble up under his skin. All he had to do was ask if you’d wanna do something after sparring, he’d asked you to hang out a million times, but he wasn’t just trying to hang out with you. He wanted this to be a date, not just another night where you two played your Shitty Action Movie Drinking Game, as fun as it was.

“I’ll be there,” he said. _And maybe, after, we could…_ “I have nothing better to do.”

You rolled your eyes. “So enthusiastic, Piet.” You punched his shoulder. “But thank you anyway.”

Thor found you and lifted you off the ground, as Thor often did since you weighed practically nothing to him. Pietro looked away until he set you back down. “Are you ready, __________?”

You put your hands on your hips. “You promised you wouldn’t go overboard, remember?”

Thor put his hand over his heart. “A promise I’ll keep, mark my words.”

“Alright cute ass, let’s go.” You turned to Pietro and smiled. “You too, super cute ass, I need a witness.”

His cheeks turned pink when you called him cute and he followed you and Thor over to the sparring ring, cheering you on louder than anyone else, even after you lost.

* * *

**The Next Night**

Some of the team had gone out for drinks. Most of the responsible adults left, but you, Pietro, Wanda, Natasha, and Sam stayed until 1 AM. Pietro gave you his jacket and you two walked behind everyone else, as usual.

"How did the date with what's-their-face go?" he asked. He never really bothered to learn the names of the people you went out with, it wasn't like they stuck around long anyway. 

You groaned. "Twenty minutes in they asked me if I used my powers in bed." Pietro's baffled expression had you doubled over with laughter. "It happens all the time! I swear to God it does, Piet!"

"Do they want you to kill them?"

"People think that people with powers like me and Wanda's can, like, give them hands-free handjobs, but both of our powers are way too strong for that. We can rip metal apart and they want us to get them off."

"Crazy..."

"How'd your date with the jogger go?"

He shook his head. "I discovered she's so boring when she is not running."

"Is running your kink?" 

"Shut up!"

Wanda turned around with a smirk. "It is his kink."

"Niko vas ništa nije pitao!" She stuck her tongue out at him. "For your information, running is _not_ my kink."

"Methinks the speedster doth protest too much."

Your group turned a corner and suddenly found yourself faced by three masked weirdos who seemed to think they were ninjas. They drew weapons, and you all immediately got into fighting stance.

"Are you serious? We're Avengers." Sam asked.  One of them threw a shuriken for his head and he ducked. "Ten bucks says it's a bunch of white dudes under those masks."

"Yeah, who the fuck else does this?" You turned and there were a few more behind you. There were a few hanging back in the fire escapes and one or two on the rooftops. You got closer to Wanda and you both got your magic ready. "It's a much bigger problem than you think it is, Sam."

Immediately, the fight was on. You tried getting people to go inside where it was safe while you fought off the masked gang. You and Wanda were fighting together, trying to be careful not to  cause too much damage while also slamming attackers into the asphalt, throwing their weapons right back at them, and bending bike racks to trap them inside.

Pietro was protecting all of you, running through the fire escapes and knocking people off of them before they could jump down and attack you. The one place he hadn’t thought to cover you was from above, because one of the attackers swooped down from the rooftops on makeshift wings and grabbed you by your shoulders. It was too quick for Wanda to catch you. You tried getting them off of you before they got too high or too far, but they were fast.

You screamed, because that was all you could think to do. Pietro’s head whipped around and he saw you, in the air, being carried far away from him.

He ran for you. He couldn’t fly but he still ran. Natasha pointed a gun at the attacker and shot at their leg, missing it the first time, but hitting their knee cap the second. The winged attacker screamed and let you go.

Suddenly, you were plummeting.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been so scared. You didn’t realize how high up you were. You were high as the rooftop of the building beside you but too far to reach out and grab it. You were falling on your back. You couldn’t see your friends, and they couldn’t see the tears in your eyes, but they could hear you screaming.

You closed your eyes when you thought you were close to the ground and braced yourself. But you didn’t hit the ground. Instead, it seemed like you started... flying.

You opened your eyes and you found yourself in Pietro’s arms. It was always Pietro. Every time you thought you were slipping away, he would show up. He would show up even when no one else noticed that you were in trouble.

When you got back to the rest of the group, who had all but handled the rest of the attackers, Pietro set you down on your feet. You caught your breath and kept your eyes on him. He'd never seen you so scared, and he didn't want to again. He wrapped his arms around you, rubbing your back to comfort you.

You sobbed into his chest. “For a second, I thought… I _thought_...”

“I will catch you, every time.”

“Thank you, Pietro.”

 _I love you, __________._ “You’re welcome, __________.”

* * *

**A Week Later**

You ran down the hall to Pietro’s door, banging on it as hard as you could. “Piet! Piet! Pi-e-tro, wake up!” He opened the door, shirtless and half-asleep. You stared at his toned body as he wiped the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. “Everyone’s gone.”

He blinked into alertness. “What do you mean?”

“I went to Steve’s room to ask if he still needed my Missy Elliott cds for whatever weird reason and FRIDAY said he was out. I asked if Sam was around and he’s out too. I asked if anyone was here and FRIDAY said that you were. It’s just us.”

“Did they go on a mission without us?”

You crossed your arms and you looked at each other, completely offended by the fact that you were left out of some secret mission that the others didn’t even bother briefing you on. With your personalities you could both be handfuls, especially together, but you were valuable handfuls.

“Why are you awake anyway, sunce?” Pietro asked. 

You nodded. “If I go to sleep I’ll have a nightmare about falling. Can I hang with you?”

He leaned on the doorpost. “Nothing will make you go to sleep?”

“Nope, not tonight. I just don’t wanna be alone in the quiet with my own thoughts.”

He held the door open for you and you walked into his room. You immediately plopped yourself on his bed and he turned on his lights.

“You want to watch something on tv?”

You nodded and he tossed you the tv remote. After flipping through Netflix for ages, you picked a comedy movie. Pietro sat next to you, legs crossed, with his hands resting in his lap. You moved around a bit trying to find a comfortable position, but your restlessness was making every position uncomfortable. Eventually, you just lifted one of Pietro’s arms and laid your head down in his lap, pulling his arm to rest on your shoulder.

He looked down at you and grinned. Why were you so gorgeous even when you were doing nothing? "Comfy."

"Nice and safe, thank you. Are you uncomfortable?"

"Not at all."

The movie was funny, but a little weird and pretty slow. After a few minutes you turned on your back and looked up at Pietro. The light from the tv flashed on his face, lighting his blue eyes as if they were electric. Wanda always caught him staring, but she never caught you. You would block her from your thoughts and just watch every expression he made, hold your eyes on the way his lips moved when he spoke, admire the way his muscles flexed under his clothes.

Since the night out, you kept thinking about how he would always catch you, and old feelings you'd been trying to bury for the sake of friendship bubbled up stronger than ever. You had to confront them now or you never would.

“Hey, Pietro?”

“Yeah?”

“I have kind of a random question.”

“The best questions are random, no?”

You smiled. “I guess so.”

“Bring on this random question.”

“How come you never flirt with me?” He froze and looked down at you. The movie went on in the background. “How come? I mean, you hit on literally everyone else, so what gives?”

“Uh…”

After a moment of awkward silence, you noticed his nervous expression and became a little nervous yourself. So, as you always did, you tried turning it into a joke.  “I’m _so_ kidding, dude. If you don’t like me, that’s fine.”

“No, no, ___________, that’s not it at all.”

Your smile faded a bit and you paused the movie. “Wait, what does that mean, Pietro?”

He ran his fingers through his hair and moved away from you. “I've always... That night when you were falling... Ah, zašto je ovo tako teško?”

"Take your time. What about that night? Have you been thinking about it too?"

He nodded. “I was so scared of losing you that it is still playing in my head.” You put your hand on his and his blue eyes met yours. He was being sincere. This wasn’t him being flirtatious, you’d seen that a thousand times. He meant every word he was saying. “The reason I call you ‘sunce’ is because you make me happy, like the sunshine. I want to be around you all the time. I want you to be mine. But I never know how to tell you! And I didn’t want to use same lines I use on other girls because you are not like other girls to me... I love you.”

Your mouth fell open. “What?”

“If that is weird of me to say, it’s fine, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“'We don’t have to talk about it'? You love me and you think I would just brush that off? Pietro, I feel the same way!”

His face filled with shock. “You do?”

“I love you and, before you ask, it’s not just because you caught me. It was before that. I just didn’t think you wanted me that way, because you walk up to any girl you see with your fuckin’ accent like ‘Kako ste, beautiful?’ and they’re already taking their panties off for you.”

He laughed and raised his hand up to caress your cheek. “It’s like I said, I didn’t want to do that with you, sunce.”

You pressed your forehead to his before kissing him gently. It was the kiss he'd been waiting for from the first moment he'd met you. He didn't ask for anything more, he didn't push, he just let it happen, feeling your soft lips on his was more than enough. 

You pulled away and smiled. “Well, Pietro, we have this whole place to ourselves… Let’s make it a date.”

"A date? Does this mean we can't fuck up Stark's things?"

You giggled. "That's the perfect date, are you kidding me?"

* * *

**Hours Later**

“Do you think it worked?”

“Shh…”

“The lights are off! I told you this wasn’t gonna work and they’d just sleep through the night.”

“You did _not_ , Sam.”

“I did so.”

“FRIDAY, turn on the lights in the common area.”

You were laying on the couch. You opened one of your eyes and sat up, hair messy, with a blanket covering the top half of your seemingly naked body. The rest of the team was either staring at you or staring at the mess you'd left in their absence. Pietro's arm was wrapped around your waist.

“Do y’all mind?”

"Don't you have a bedroom, what are you doing out here?" Tony asked. 

“Minding my business, mostly.” Pietro snickered next to you. “Where the hell were y’all? We thought you went on a mission or something.”

Thor raised an eyebrow. “We?”

Pietro slipped out from under the blanket and stood up, fully naked. Most of the Avengers averted their eyes, but a few were too surprised to turn away. He smirked back at them. Now _that_ was your best friend.

“Yes, we.” He stretched his arms out. “You want a drink, sunce?”

You stared at his butt as he walked around the couch. “Yes, please.”

He looked them in the eyes as he walked past them to the kitchen. "You look so surprised."

Sam slipped Natasha twenty bucks and you giggled, sex-drunk. "We had a _great_ time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Bucky Bucky Bucky


	30. Healing (Bucky)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while! i have no excuses, i've been super distracted by depression and... nazis  
> so this was a fun distraction, hope you're all well  
> this one was super hard but fun to write. bucky barnes is an ass man and here's some weird ass smut, enjoy

 

> _Hi! Are you still taking requests? Can you do a smut fic where reader is an ameican enhanced that was found in Sokovia with Wanda and Pietro, and has the power of absorption, amplification and healing and ends up as an avenger. Can you have her be really shy and cautious around everyone because shes afraid to hurt them, except for Bucky because she admires him so much for overcoming hydra. Also Im hella short and kinda thick so shes hella short and has a huge ass too!_

go head wit ya big booty!!!

* * *

You were a ticking time bomb. Hydra didn't know what to do with you, so you knew the Avengers wouldn't either. Your powers weren't exactly pretty like Wanda's. You could pull three razor blades into the palms of your hands and then make them fly at your enemies at unnatural speeds. You could make other people's powers stronger, which you supposed could be useful, but you weren't close enough to anyone on the team to do it.

When the Avengers found you, they were skeptical. Tony and Steve decided to give you a trial run. They wanted to see how well you handled being on a team and how much control you had over your powers. They took you out on a few missions. You mostly healed the injured others and did little else out of fear that you would lose control. You stayed in your room unless you had to leave it. Months passed and your teammates knew as much about you and what you could do as they’d known when they first found you.

That all seemed to change when Bucky showed up.

They brought him into the facility in the middle of the night, on the rare night when you happened to be restless and wandering the halls. Yours was the first face he saw when he arrived, and there was something about him and the pain in his eyes that immediately felt so familiar.

Just like you, he didn't talk to anyone when he first arrived, not even Steve. You followed him around a bit at first, trying to learn all you could about this ghost from a distance. What you learned brought you to tears.

His story was a lot like yours. He was lost and broken. Hydra found him and forced him to be a weapon. He was trying to break away from old Winter Soldier habits and get used to just being around other people without his guard up. He felt used, he felt dangerous. You caught him observing his metal arm sometimes, staring at it like it had done something to him. In a way you supposed it had.

You two connected when he had his first nightmare in the facility. He didn’t want to wake Steve or Sam so he’d stumbled through the halls alone. You were up, too. You were reading a book in the dark when he walked into the kitchen, panting and sweating, needing a glass of water and a breath of fresh air.

You approached him slowly, making sure not to sneak up behind him. You cleared your throat and he turned to you, worried that he’d scared you.

“Have you ever listened to Nina Simone?” you asked. You weren’t used to speaking, so your voice was barely louder than a whisper, but you could tell he’d heard you, because his eyes softened. “She usually calms me down when I have nightmares.”

“I think… Sam likes her music.”

“He does. Do you wanna listen to her?”

He shook his head. “You don’t wanna be around me right now.”

“I have the power to heal more than just cuts and bruises.”

You took his hand and led him to your room and you listened to soft music until he fell asleep and stayed asleep.

You two were fast friends. You started spending any free time you had with him. The others had the tendency to infantilize the both of you because of all that you’d been through and how quiet you were, but around each other, you were practically normal. You had rituals and inside jokes. You checked in on each other. It wasn’t abnormal for one of you to climb into the other’s bed after a bad nightmare. You didn’t treat each other’s pain as personality traits. The pain was part of what bound you together, but it never felt like an elephant in the room when it was just you and Bucky enjoying each other’s company.

After a while, Bucky started opening up to the rest of the team. Everyone got to know the sweet personality that you knew so well and they liked him, just like you thought they would. He wasn’t quite back to his old self, but he was back on his feet.

You still weren’t there. You still felt like a timebomb. You kept your distance from the other Avengers because you were sure that one day they’d have to wake up and realize that you weren’t someone they should’ve kept around. You weren’t like Bucky, you didn’t have the virtue of being a great person under the armor.

They’d become a little nervous about you and this trial period they’d given you, so they arranged for you to get a bit more attention during training. This wouldn’t help and you knew it, Bucky knew it too. You had a bag packed and ready in your closet for whenever you found the window to leave the facility.

Training made your anxiety spike. It made your skin crawl. You were in such a contained space with the others, and you still didn’t have great control over these powers that you didn’t even want in the first place. You knew you could have hurt someone, and the thought of hurting all of the kind people around you, who’d given you the chance to redeem yourself, scared you shitless.

Bucky stayed with you the night before. You couldn’t sleep so you did the only thing you could think of and you nuzzled yourself into his body for the night to find some comfort. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You didn’t want him to start treating you the way everyone else did.

In your nervous, sleepless state, it didn’t go well. You were so anxious and your aim was so off that you nearly shot through Natasha. After minutes of failed attempts to prove that you had your powers under control, you just opted for shooting the ground.

The others tried to assure you that you were fine and could try again but you weren’t listening to them anymore. You were listening to your heart pound and the blood rush between your ears. Instead of focusing, you’d just shut down.

Bucky noticed that you weren’t moving and that your chest was heaving. He ran out to you and gently held your face, trying to get you to look up at him and pull out of your anxiety attack. “No more,” he told the others. “She’s done.”

“What’s wrong?” Steve asked.

Bucky knew what you were afraid of, he always did. “I just need to get her out of here. She’s done enough.”

He walked you of the training room. When you got into the elevator, you were still hyperventilating. He put his hand over your racing heart and tried getting you to breathe with him.

“In. Hold it. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. Out. Slow. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.” You started to think clearly again. You saw Bucky’s face like the light at the end of a tunnel while he coached you through your attack. When you started to cry, he wiped your eyes. “I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.”

You pushed away from him and his eyes widened. “Don’t touch me. I can’t control myself.”

“You did fine, you were just nervous.”

“That excuse works the first three times, but this is, what? Attempt twenty?”

“No one’s counting except you,” he assured you. “Everyone wants you to get better, they know you can do this. You’re not as dangerous as you think you are.”

“They should’ve left me to die in Sokovia.”

Bucky’s face looked so hurt you would’ve sworn that statement was directed at him. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. stall the elevator.” The elevator stopped and you and Bucky stood there in silence for a brief moment while he thought of something to say.  “Where’s this coming from?”

“Every time I get a chance to show them that I’m worth something, I fuck it up. What do you think that means?”

“That’s not true, you’ve saved mine and everyone else’s life more times than I can count.” Bucky slowly reached out, holding your face in hands again, and moving closer.

“What if that doesn’t mean anything? What if I’m just broken?”

“You are far from broken. I trust you more than anyone else here. When the others see the you that I see, they’ll trust you, too.”

“What if they never see what you see?”

“They will if you let them.”

You looked down. “I just wish I could be more like you…” you admitted. “I wish I could somehow shake Hydra off of my back, but everyday I feel like they still have me somehow.”

He shook his head. “I feel like that all the time, _____________. We’re probably going to feel that way for most of our lives. But they _don’t_ own us. Look at us, we take care of each other, we take care of everyone. I don’t know if I’m a good person, but I know that you are.”

“How?”

He grinned. “Because the first thing you did when you met me was help. A lot of people wouldn’t have done that.”

“Because when I saw you I knew you, and I didn’t want you to be like me.”

“Oh honey, I wish everyone was like you.”

His thumb brushed your cheek and you closed your eyes. As much as you didn’t think you deserved that praise, it still meant the world to you coming from someone you thought was so strong.

“Thank you," you said.

“For what?”

“For just being here… I didn’t really have much of anyone before you.”

He took a deep breath. “In that case, I wanna be completely honest with you, lay it all out on the table.”

Your brows knit together. “When haven’t you been real with me?”

He cleared his throat. “Well, I haven’t been completely honest about how I feel about you,” he admitted. “And last night when you couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t either because I knew you were scared and I also knew you’re planning to leave.”

Your mouth fell open. You didn’t want him to know. You'd done everything in your power to keep it from everyone, most importantly him. “It’s not you.”

“I know,” he said. “And as much as I want you here, I can’t keep you here. But, if you’re going to leave, I need you to know that I’m in love with you.”

“You are?”

“I don’t say things that I don’t mean, ____________. I’m so in love with you that the other day I left my boots in your room as an excuse to run back and see you before going off on that mission.”

You laughed. “Was that what that was about? Oh Brooklyn boy, you should’ve told me sooner.”

His eyes flickered up to you and, before he could put his foot in his mouth, you kissed him. He seemed so relieved that you’d done it first. He held you close to him, your soft lips meeting in a way that almost felt like two connecting puzzle pieces.

When you pulled away you looked up at him and decided, if you were really going to leave the Avengers, you wanted this last night to be something worth remembering. You reached up and ran your fingers across his stubble.

“Let’s have one more night together.”

Bucky’s heart started to race and his eyes focused on you so hard you knew he’d been waiting a long time for this. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. take us to my floor.”

“Of course, Mr. Barnes,” the computer said. “Would you also like me to lock the door behind you two when you get to your room?”

“Yes, please.”

You got to Bucky’s floor and he lifted you up, kissing you again. You wrapped your legs around his waist and curled your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss. He carried you down the hall to his room, first pinning you against the door, kissing your neck and your shoulders, whispering about how beautiful you were.

He reached for the door knob, pushing it open and carrying you in. The door locked behind you and you were pressed against it again. You tugged on collar of his shirt until he was lifting it over his head and throwing it to the side.

He lifted you off the wall and set you down on the bed. He slid your pants off and paused, looking down at the now naked lower half of your body.

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “What’s wrong?”

“You don’t wear underwear during training?”

You shook your head. “It bunches. Why?”

You could see him blushing and you found it endearing. “It’s, uh, just gonna be hard not to think about that from now on.”

You giggled. “Just don’t stare at my ass, James.”

“It’s hard not to stare.”

He kissed his way up your stomach, lifting your shirt up the further he went. He reached behind you with his flesh and blood hand and unbuckled your bra, then slipped his hand underneath and cupped one of your breasts with the metal hand. The cold shocked you, it made you gasp and moan, but the smooth metal felt nice against your skin, and you finally started to relax when his thumb rolled across your nipple.

Bucky lifted himself up to your lips and you found yourself over thinking again. “Wait.” He pulled away, looking slightly worried. “I don’t know what my powers will do when we…”

“Do you want to do this?” he asked you.

“Yes!”

Bucky lifted your arms up above your head and slowly pulled your shirt and bra off. “Okay, then trust me…”  He nipped your bottom lip, you whimpered. “...and trust yourself.”

“I trust you.”

“Good,” he said. He licked his lips, then his eyes lit up with an idea. “Can you get on your hands and knees for me, doll?”

You did as he asked and got on your hands and knees. Looking back, you noticed him admiring you from this position. He stripped off the rest of his clothes and crawled behind you, running his fingers along the ample curve of your ass, sending a shiver down your spine.

He bit his lip and sat down behind you with his legs spread. One of them was between your thighs. God, he must've noticed those fleeting moments where you caught yourself staring at his thighs.

You hummed and lowered yourself down on him, just loving the contact with his skin. His hands went to your hips and you rolled your wetness on him. You heard him moan as you rode his thigh, looking back at him whenever you got the chance. He kissed your spine and whispered sweet praises into your ear that you wouldn't forget.

 

It felt so good to make him feel good. The last time you’d felt this good was when you first saved a family in Sokovia, healing their child who'd been hurt. But this feeling came with an unfamiliar ache, you also wanted to please yourself. For the first time in so long you were doing something for yourself, sharing your body with someone instead of hiding it.

Bucky noticed your newfound confidence when you started rolling on his thigh with more authority.

“Yeah, baby, there we go…”

You hissed, slowing down for a moment. You'd gone too fast, too rough. Bucky reached around to the front of you with his metal hand and started rubbing your clit and your head fell back. You kept your pace slow and he moved with you, resting his head on your shoulder.

You were close and practically dripping down his thigh. He groaned in your ear. “_____________?”

“Yeah?”

“I feel… stronger…”

You gasped. “That’s me, that’s my powers!” You stopped moving and turned around on his lap with a smile. “You’re the first person that’s ever managed to make it work!”

“Really?”

You nodded and kissed him, straddling him and feeling his thick length rub against your clit as you did. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled his lips away from yours just to kiss your nose and the space between your brows with the gentlest, happiest sigh.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You reached between your bodies, wrapping your hand around his shaft, slowly pumping it, much to his surprise. He stuttered out your name and a line of curses, moaning pornographically when your thumb massaged his tip. He was so hard you were sure he was aching, but he sounded and looked so beautiful you could’ve done this all day.

Growing impatient and needy, you raised yourself up, holding his dick at your entrance. You clenched at the contact and pressed your head to Bucky’s before lowering yourself down on him. You lifted yourself up again, then lowered yourself down all the way, overwhelmed with the feeling of him filling you.

You stayed like that and then, once comfortable, you moved your hips. He moved his to meet yours and it felt so good you dug your nails into his shoulders. You kept with a romantic pace, savoring the feeling of your bodies together, savoring how amazing it felt to be connected.

His metal hand held your hips while the flesh one gripped tight to your ass. You could tell that his final string of control was being pulled taut and you wanted to see what he’d look like when it finally snapped.

“Oh God, Bucky you’re so fucking good... I love you.”

He moaned loudly and suddenly you were on your back, with him looking down on you, not thrusting but _grinding_ into you. He was still resting on his knees, giving him the perfect angle to rub against that spot that even you had a hard time finding. He stared into your eyes with adoration and purpose and you wished this could last for hours, maybe forever. You were so close, your breath got caught in your throat and all you could think to do was moan his name.

He brushed your clit a few more times and it happened. Your toes curled and you clenched around him as the pleasure shot through you. Bucky growled but didn’t stop. He only changed positions, chasing another release for you as well as his own.

“Close…”

You were so sensitive that you were close again, too. He started thrusting into you, hard, kissing and biting the skin on your neck. Something started to creak and snap under you, and you didn’t think anything of it, but then you felt yourself falling. As you fell you came a second time, pulling him with you. He pulled out right before pumping himself onto your stomach until he was empty, then collapsed beside you.

You caught your breath and looked up at the ceiling while he stared at you, wondering how he’d gotten so lucky all of a sudden. But he also felt a little sick. You were leaving. He refused to fight you on that, he refused to beg you to stay. He knew you weren’t happy with The Avengers and he couldn’t fix that, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

He looked around with a chuckle. “We broke my bed.”

“We broke your bed.”

“Do you wanna take a shower?” he asked.

You nodded, then turned to him with a grin. You imagined waking up to him every morning. The smell of coffee coming in from the kitchen, New York traffic acting as your alarm clock. You wondered what it would be like to eat breakfast with him at your own little table, maybe pick up a newspaper. It was the fantasy of a domestic life that'd never really been an option for you.

But you couldn't help but want it.

“Come with me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You want me to run away with you? Are you sure?”

“We just broke a bed together, of course I’m sure.” You bit your lip. “Peter goes back and forth all the time. We don’t have to leave the team, just the facility. We’ll get a little place, be around real people, get our feet back on the ground… Does that sound crazy?”

He shook his head and smiled.  “No, that sounds perfect.”

After two months of negotiating, begging for the opportunity to leave, and searching, you finally found your little place in the city. Of course, it had a few Stark security modifications, but it definitely felt like you were in a home. You were comfortable with Bucky in the real world and, for the first time, you could honestly say you didn’t feel like a machine or a burden. You felt human again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Sam and Rhodey


	31. A Super-Drag (Sam + Rhodey)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and partially dedicated to serena and her new baby

 

> _Hey! I really like your works! I was wondering if you could do a one shot where the Avengers plus black female reader are at a interview and someone says something racially/sexist against her and Sam or Rhodes come to her defence?_

* * *

 

It was important as Avengers, defenders of the city and the world, that you remained connected to the press and the citizens you protected but, my God… Why press conferences?

You weren't _bad_ at press. In fact, you were great at it. The less social members of the team always knew you had a good sound bite ready. You gave candid, honest answers, and the public connected to that.

But press conferences were like being thrust into a sea of bright lights and pulpy questions that didn't make you feel like a hero, but like a brand. Being on a team with a Stark and Captain America didn't help that at all. Early on, you realized that you had an image to uphold for the sake of the team. You had to have clear answers. You had to have comebacks. You developed a public persona of someone who was blunt, perhaps a bit loud, and definitely confident.

But sometimes you would get snagged by question you weren't sure how to answer. 

The conference was almost over, you were at home stretch. You kept getting distracted by thoughts of Mexican food. Natasha brought it up that morning and it hadn't left your mind since.

Your stomach growled and Sam, who was sitting next to you, leaned over and whispered, “Damn girl, we're gonna get you some tamales, hold tight.”

You chuckled. “You over here bouncing like you gotta pee, telling _me_ to wait…”

“I'm waiting for a polite moment to present itself.”

“Oh aight, nervous ass, don't let these reporters scare you.”

“One more question about my hair and I'll snap,” Bucky muttered.

You smiled. “Does anyone have another question about Bucky’s new haircut?” He elbowed you and covered his face. “The public doesn't like change, James.”

A man in front, who’d been watching you the whole time, stood slowly. He caught your attention as he did, his eyes posing a clear challenge.

“His hair smells like pineapples," you told him. "But a lot of time it just smells like leather."

“Actually this question is for you, _____________,” he said.

“Hello!” you said, grinning. “Lovely tie.”

“Um, thank you. I wanted to ask about your origins. We know that each of the Avengers’ origin stories are available to the public thanks to the collapse of SHIELD, but you joined afterwards. You just sort of… appeared. While you have proven strong, your edition to the team baffled me because the team already had two women and you're twice their size and strength. Everything about you is larger than life. It feels manufactured to a lot of people, including myself, who believe that you are a product of the Avengers attempting to adhere to the demands of your leftist critics. My question is, will you ever release the story of how you got your powers? I feel that this would humanize you in the eyes of the public.”

The crowd filled with murmurs. The other Avengers turned to you and you were so paralyzed with shock that your brain couldn't form a sentence. _Humanize._ What were you supposed to say to that? No, sir, I wasn't invented in a lab to keep the left please with this team of formerly government-funded superheroes. You didn't want to say that. You didn't want to have to validate your existence to a white reporter with a clear agenda.

There was also the problem of your origins- You didn't want to talk about it. The files were buried per your request, and you were fine never thinking about it again. No one asked, after a while no one even seemed to care much. It was no laughing matter, no joking matter, and you knew the only reason this reporter brought it up was to make you feel illegitimate somehow.

In the corner of your eye, you saw Sam lean forward. He tapped the mic twice and cleared his throat. “Do you have a real question for my teammate?”

“I think she can speak for herself,” the reporter replied. “You can, can you not?”

“Actually, I think Sam and I are gonna take this one.” Rhodey said. “As the token Black men.” The audience chuckled and you grinned at Rhodey, who was sat by Natasha at the end of the table.

Sam went on. “Before ________________, something was missing and we couldn't put our finger on it. Tony found her, through circumstances that are uncomfortable for her to get into, and it all felt right, like, we were always meant to find her. The, uh, _totality_ of our team hinges on this beautiful Black woman and all she does to make the rest of us look like we were amateurs before she got here.”

“Funny that you describe her as ‘beautiful', Agent Wilson, are you not biased due to your relationship with her?” asked the reporter.

You were moments from lashing out, but Sam held you back. “That's what he wants.”

“Sam might be biased, but I'm not.” Rhodey said. “Neither is Natasha or Tony or Steve or Bruce or Bucky or Wanda or Pietro or Vision or Thor or Clint. Yet somehow we all have, on different occasions, referred to her as the best thing to happen to the team in forever. I know personally, I didn't know how self-sacrificing and generous a person could be until I met this girl who'd give you her last penny. Now, you can argue all you want that she's filling a quota but that was a quota that needed to be filled and she's exceeded expectations so, if you can't deal with that then… Tuh!”

You were so touched that you really couldn't speak. You just leaned on Sam's shoulder, and he put his arm around you.

“Anything you'd like to add, ____________?” Rhodey asked.

You shook your head then Steve leaned forward. “Actually Rhodey, I have a few candid, uncensored words for our friend here…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: waadddeeee wilson


	32. Mischief Night (Deadpool)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's my favorite holiday and my favorite guy, just for you  
> it's a little less sensual than i wanted but thaaaat's wade

 

 

> _sorry, i already did this at your fic, but do you have any requests for some steamy deadpool/reader? if not, i request that with much vigor._

* * *

 

You were going to kill Wade Wilson.

You'd thought about it before. You _may have_ written angry journal entries about it. You mentioned it to your friends on occasion, but this time? You were going to kill Wade Wilson.

Two weeks you'd been planning this date night. It was Halloween, your favorite night of the year. You dressed up as Velma Dinkley. You'd given half your candy away to the kids in your complex and you were going through the other half like a goddamn maniac while watching The Twilight Zone.

Wade was supposed to be there four hours earlier.

“God, I hope you're somewhere chained to train tracks…” you grumbled. “Hope you're sawing your fuckin foot off. Hope Jason's chasing you through Camp Crystal Lake. Hope you've been buried alive and you have to crawl yourself out, you Canuck bastard…”

You felt bad for feeling so angry that you wished physical harm upon your boyfriend when your relationship had always been a bright spot in your life, but this wasn't the first time. It was the third in a month. Part of you was worried that something really serious was going on with him and, in true Wade Wilson fashion, he was covering his actual issues with jokes and personality. But the other part felt… _needy_.

You'd been with Wade for a while and never felt _needy_.

You had this whole plan to tease him with the short skirt of your costume by bending over every time you handed a kid candy. That way he'd be so worked up when it was all gone and he'd fuck you into the floorboards. You'd see God, you were looking forward to it.

But _no_.

And you didn’t want to make him think that he had to please you. He never had to. You allowed him a space to be free, where he got all the attention he needed, when he wanted it (and he wanted a lot of it). In return, you got a surprisingly affectionate, endearingly annoying, spandex-clad motormouth who you were more than happy to call yours, and that was enough. But your body was screaming, crying for his, and your hand wasn’t really doing the trick anymore.

“Out there kicking ass when you should be in here spanking mine…”

Wade finally made an appearance minutes later, practically kicking the door open. He was wearing a red jacket, like the one Nicholson wore in The Shining. In his left hand he was holding a plush axe that he’d obviously gotten from a children’s Tin Man costume, and in his right hand, he was holding his ammo bag.

“Heeeeeeere’s-”

You put your hand up. “Save it.”

Wade deflated. He gently closed the probably damaged apartment door and shuffled over to you on the couch. “I’m late, right?” You nodded, keeping your eyes on the screen in front of you. “Zoinks!”

You rolled your eyes. “Four hours late is actually jinkies, not zoinks.”

He hadn’t taken his mask off yet, but you knew that caught him by surprise. He inhaled sharply and stared remorsefully at you for a second before hitting himself on the forehead with the palm of his hand.

“I should’ve stopped for fucking flowers!”

“And chocolate.” You paused the show and set your bowl of candy aside, turning towards him. “This is the _third_ date you’ve missed! What’s going on with you?”

“It’s the same guy, _____________!” he exclaimed. “I got a job to take this cumbag on the other side of town out. He’s old as hell, like, older than Logan. He walks with a cane! I’m thinking ‘Easy money! I can buy my girl Kelela tickets to make up for the dates I already missed’, but he has BODYGUARDS?! He has three fortified hideouts?! Everytime I go to get this guy, something holds me up!” Wade leaned his head on your shoulder. “And then I miss you, and I realise I’m the asshole.”

You sighed. “You are, you are the asshole.”

“Thanks babe.”

“You should’ve just told me there was something wrong with your mark, I would’ve understood!”

“It’s a bad reason for skipping out on three dates with the Padme to my Anakin.”

“Bad relationship.”

“Ivy to my Harley?”

“Sure.”

“I owe you.”

“You do.”

You pressed play and went back to watching the show. You pulled another piece of candy from the bowl and Wade watched you eat it. It was the first time he noticed how glossy your lips were that night. So glossy that they reflected the light from the tv screen.

You looked so good in your costume. The orange brought out the glow in your skin, the wig framed your face nicely, and that skirt! That skirt would be Wade’s death. It allowed him an eyeful of your thighs, and when he got an eyeful he saw that they were rubbing together.

“Oh, you meddling kid…” he whispered. “Are you teasing me right now, _____________?”

You didn’t respond. You just kept rubbing your thighs together, finding enough friction to send pleasure to your core. Wade kissed you, behind your ears, down your neck. You bit your bottom lip and kept your eyes on the screen.

“Hell yeah…” Wade touched your thigh and you grabbed his wrist, keeping him from creeping any closer to the one place he wanted to be. He whined. “But she’s calling me. I can hear her. _I’m the pussy whisperer._ ”

You weren’t relenting, and he pulled his hand back with a huff, but he wasn’t giving up. Especially now that you were really putting on a show, letting out little moans as your thighs rubbed together.

Determined, Wade pushed his mask over his mouth and nose, and slowly slipped his jacket off. He got down on the floor and pushed the coffee table back. “You know what, _____________? I’m sorry.” He moved your knees apart. “But I think we’ve both had a long night…” He reached his hands up your skirt, slipping your soaking panties off and giving them a long sniff before throwing them to the side. “And I want candy, too.”

Before you had a moment to process it, your knees had been pulled over his shoulders, and your skirt had been pushed up to your waist, and Wade’s face was buried in your neglected wetness.

It was such a relief to have him between your legs again, to have his mouth on you, to have his tongue coaxing praise from yours.

You pretended to still be focused on the show, knowing it would provoke him and make him want to force your attention from it.

“Pass me my candy, Wade.”

Wade lifted his head and laughed. “You cum for me, pumpkin spice, and you’ll get your candy.”

She crossed her arms. “Fine.”

“See, I missed you.” He rolled his gloved thumb around your entrance and you rolled your hips. He never tried to hold you down, it was hotter for him if you moved and moved and moved. “My plan was to come home, do a little bit of spooky role-playing, and fuck you into the next dimension because it's been long for me...” He teased you until his thumb was slick, then he pushed it inside of you. Your breath caught and your eyes widened but you didn't take them off the tv. “And I know it's been long for you. But if you wanna play it that way, we can. And I _will_ make you cum, baby. Harder than ever. You'll cum as hard as you fell for m-”

You pushed his head back into your folds and he gave you a thumbs up with his free hand. He rolled his tongue against your clit, not too soft, reclaiming you as he always did. His thumb was still barely penetrating you, but the tease was so much that your eyes crossed. It'd been too long, his thumb only made you think of his dick filling you and you just became more _needy_.

You moaned loudly and he pulled his tongue from your clit, just as your sudden climax began to build. But you were still mad, right? So you kept your arms crossed and you kept your eyes on the screen when they weren't threatening to roll into the back of your skull.

“I'll tell ya one thing, when I was getting off to the thought of you this morning, I didn't think you'd be this wet, but you're like a beautiful little puddle right now, babe.” He pulled his thumb out to show you, then sucked it off. “That's crazy, right? That can't all be for me, were you pregaming?”

“It's all for you, always.”

“Aw, YES!”

He went back to eating you out, this time easing two fingers into you. You lifted your hips up and he curled them in a come hither motion and it almost broke you. You let your head fall back for a moment. Your eyelids started to pull shut but you forced them open.

You didn't know what was going on with the episode anymore. It looked like a black and white blur and the sound of Wade slurping you up was just as loud as the dialogue. This time you were definitely getting close. You let out more _needy_ moans. Wade heard you loud and clear. You could feel him staring at you under the mask, if you could read his mind you’d hear him thinking “Come on, come on, come on, come on…”

You came with a choked cry and he pulled you through it, only pulling his mouth off of you once the last wave of pleasure hit you. Then, in true Wade form, he started talking again.

“There we go, that’s what it’s all about!” He sighed dreamily and leaned on your thigh. Slowly pulling out his fingers. You whined and he gently patted your sensitive clit.  “Sometimes you make me wanna put down the guns forever, you know? I just can't believe you're mine. I don't think this is how it's supposed to work. Aren't you supposed to be with Chris Pine or something instead of a white raisin with a gun.” He gasps. “The sequel to Raisin In The Sun!”

You caught your breath and came back to your senses, and you pointed to the candy bowl behind Wade’s head. “Candy.”

“Nah!”

“You said-”

He licked his fingers clean and rose through your legs. You pulled his mask off and threw it to the side. “I said if you cum for me you’d get candy… I never said how many times I wanted you to cum.”

“Fuck off, Wade!”

“What’s that you said?” He asked, slowly undoing his suit. “‘Fuck me so hard I forget my own name’? Well, if you insist, princess.”

His hands roamed under your shirt and you arched into him, kissing him hard as he fondled you. Wade had always had it in his head that he wasn’t good at pleasing you and you had no idea where he’d gotten that from. If anything, Wade left you feeling utterly felt. Not touched, but felt. Even here, just kissing you and holding your breasts in his hands, you felt… taken care of, in a way you never had before. He was so focused on you the entire time that sometimes you had to remind him that this was for him, too.

You pressed your hands to his chest and pushed him back. “Wait!”

“Did I pinch your nipple too hard again?”

“No! It’s just… It’s Halloween…. You’re dressed as Jack Torrance…. If you wanted to-”

“Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!”

You giggled. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I was hoping f-”

He pressed his forehead to yours and smiled, lining himself up at your entrance as he did. “Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin?” Wade pressed a kiss to your nose and laughed a little. “Stop giggling, babe, pretend to be scared Do a little Shelley Duvall for me.”

“I can’t!”

“Alright, fair enough.” He took a deep breath and went back into his Jack voice. “Then I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow your house in!”

He pushed into you, stretching you wide. You moaned so loud, you wondered how long it’d actually been. How had it only been a month and yet you felt like you hadn’t felt so full in ages.

“I know it’s Halloween but you’re wrapping around me like a stocking right now, Christ.” He slowly pulled almost the entirety of the way out, then pushed back in, this time fully seating himself in you. You expected him to move right away, and you were half-disappointed when he didn’t. He nuzzled your cheek with his. “You know I had a dream like this once except we were carving pumpkins and covered in pumpkin guts.”

“You’re not putting pumpkin guts on me, Wade.”

“Well, you have 365 days to reconsider that.”

“I’m no reconsidering it, just _move_.”

And move he did. He held your hips tight to his and started fucking you, deep, not too fast. Your bodies never made it too far apart. Usually he liked that, he liked to get a bit more wild with you and luckily you were a freak, but tonight was different. Tonight, for whatever reason, he wanted to feel joined with you.

As he picked up a harder, but not necessarily faster pace, you cradled the back of his head, pressing his face into your neck. He scraped his teeth across your skin and you reached forward and grabbed his butt, making him squeak.

“Okay, ____________! Goddamn!”

You felt your climax building again, and Wade did too. He wasn’t gonna last long. “You feel so good!”

“Oh-ho-ho-ho, not as good as you. Next year you should paint yourself gold and go as the Holy fucking Grail… Shit!”

He pushed your knees up, folding you in half, no longer showing mercy as he absolutely ruined you. You were louder than the tv. So loud that the dog next door started barking. So loud that you couldn’t even hear your own thoughts over the sounds of your moans.

Wade grunts as he gets closer. “God, when did you get so _needy_?”

For some reason, that draws it out of you. Not once but twice you cum around him, trembling. Your eyes rolled back so far you thought they'd get stuck, and Wade kept going until he came tumbling with you.

“Sweet fucking jack-o-lanterns!”

He spilled into you, slowing as he did. You didn’t want it to be over. You wanted him to stay inside of you forever. You knew it would probably cause health issues but that was a risk you were far more than willing to take.

But he does pull out, and he collapses on the floor below you when he does. You looked down at him, and he looked up at you, and you smirked. “That was round one.”

“How many rounds left?”

“Two.”

He smiled “Faaantastic.”

He crawled onto the couch and you knew you were both leaving stains, but there were other couches in the world. He cuddled up next to you and you kissed his forehead.

“I missed you.”

“I know.”

“You’re a dickhead.”

“I know that, too.”

“I love you.”

“That’s so hot.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t ruin it.”

You sat there and watched the Twilight Zone, while your bodies got ready to handle the next two rounds. Wade leaned his head on your chest.

“Hey, baby, you know how on Halloween all of the spirits come out?” Wade asked. Spent, you just hummed in reply. “How many of them just watched us do that?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Luke Cage


	33. Insomnia Cookies (Luke Cage)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ..... it's been a minute!  
>  i had to write four papers last month but i'm here, bitch, and i brought smut  
> also if you have not seen ragnarok.... please please please please do. it's my new favorite marvel movie, i cannot give it enough praise!!

> _gentle dom!Luke Cage, or alternatively, Luke Cage completely and utterly in love. Real soft-like._

* * *

It was 2 AM and Harlem was quiet. The quiet had you toss and turn. You worried about waking the big guy next to you, the big bulletproof guy who slept like a bear, your insomnia would probably be his death.

On many occasions he'd wake up to you cooking something or cleaning or doing laundry to wear yourself down until you passed out or had to leave for work in the morning. It scared him to death how little you slept. Of course, he _could_ have just slept at his own place, but where's the fun in that?

You endured your restlessness a little while longer before slipping out from under his arm, grabbing a sweater, and making your way up to the roof to look out at the city below you. It wasn’t the city that was quiet after all, just your room. From the rooftop you could hear everything. All the honking cars and shouts and laughter. The bed your shared with Luke was usually an escape from this, but tonight you had to hear it.

After a while, you felt a duvet wrap around you and the bulletproof bear wrapped himself in it and sat with you, keeping you warm and feeling safe.

“I never pictured you as a stargazing type of guy,” you told him.

“You can't see stars in Harlem.”

You scoffed. “Lots of people see stars in Harlem.”

He chuckled. “Baby, those are satellites.”

He was so realistic for an idealist. “Luke, anything that twinkles, floats, and falls is a star.” He smiled and opened his mouth to argue and you covered it. “Drag queens twinkle, float, and fall. They are pure stardust. You cannot argue against me. Ever seen that video of Beyoncé falling? Star!”

He held your wrist and planted a gentle kiss on the palm of your hand. “You have a point.”

“I _always_ have a point, Luke.”

You kissed him and he kept kissing your cheek as you turned back to the city. You met Luke on that block. It was a chance run in that turned into several more chance run ins. After he asked you out the fifth time, you accepted, but only because you got the feeling that his persistence wasn't desperate, and it wasn't. Women were lining the blocks for Luke, he could've had anyone, but he just kept working on you.

It was a sweet story to tell the hypothetical kids. When word got out, everyone thought you were lucky to have him. But Luke and you both knew that you were the one calling the shots, and he was happy to be led by you. He would follow you anywhere.

He just wished you slept like a normal person.

“Come back to bed,” he whispered. “Try that for once.”

You sighed. “I couldn't lay there staring at the window all night.”

“I know it's hard but this can't possibly be helping.”

“It's not, but you are.” You caressed his face. “You're a real distraction, you know that.”

He chuckles, he’s all white teeth and twinkling eyes. If he were on movie posters in the 50s he would give Sidney Poitier a run for his money. The love practically radiates off of him. It’s hard to ignore. A piece of you feels as though you haven’t earned it, but you don’t care, you need it. You need him.

“You woke me up and now you’re gonna sweet talk me?” he asked.

You grinned. “Sweet talk you? Nah, b. I was just talking.”

He leans in. “Oh really?”

“Oh really.”

You kissed him, and you expected the sounds of the city below you to fade off into the distance, but the city became part of the kiss. It was like you were professing your love for him on a Harlem rooftop to anyone who would listen. It excited you.

When you climbed onto Luke’s lap, you expected him to stop you. There was no one else on the roof, but that didn’t mean there would always be no one else on the roof. Plus, it was a roof. There had to be a law against getting hot and heavy on a roof.

But Luke doesn’t stop you at all. In fact, his hands travel up your sweater and your t-shirt- His t-shirt. You feel them, indestructible, crawling up to your shoulders, making the cold night feel suddenly like August.

It’s his impulse to tangle his hands in the back of your curls, but your hair was wrapped and he was not about to push that button and end up having to live with being blue balled on a rooftop. Instead he settles by holding onto your back while you slowly grind on him.

He’s so hard, so fast. His lips and teeth scrape against your jaw and your neck. His hands move to cup and tease your breasts. For once, you were glad you had insomnia and that this wasn’t a dream because he makes you feel so high.

One of his hands slides down slowly, lower and lower, his thumb caressing each rib and making you sigh with pleasure. He holds your hip for a moment and you whine, because you know what he’s doing, he always does this. He thinks it’s so cute to tease and tease and tease.

You wanted to protest but he’s smiling up at you, asking you if you’ll go to sleep if he gives you what you want. You nodded.

“Good.”

His hand moves to your thigh, then inside of it, and your breath hitches. His other thumb is still rolling around your nipple when his wandering hand reaches your most sensitive place. He’s so gentle with you, stroking you softly, his hands just a bit cold from being outside. It feels so fucking good. You roll yourself against his hand. On occasion, he’d tease your entrance with his middle finger.

It dawned on you that Luke’s scheme was to have you cumming with your clothes on, and that only made you more excited for it. The city was still loud as ever below you. You imagined the honking cars were cheering you on.

It’s only when you’re dripping onto him that he pushes his fingers into you, letting the palm of his rough hand brush your clit. The groan he lets out is so hot it makes you moan and your hips push forward. As he pumps his fingers inside, you grind on him, fucking his fingers, making eye contact to let him know you’d be doing this to his dick later. He must catch your drift because he smirks at you.

He pulls you closer while you ride his hand, and lifts his lips up to your ear. “Do you know how good you feel?” You let out a high-pitched moan and your eyes flutter shut. “Shit, I’m so lucky…”

As your orgasm builds, you chase it. Luke’s fingers curl into your weak spot and you bite down on his shoulder to conceal your screams. It’s symphonic. The cool air gives you goosebumps under Luke’s warm hands. Your soft moans and sighs hit your ear louder than the traffic below. It’s you and him alone but not alone. Awake but not awake.

You curl into him when it hits you, making your whole body shiver and tense on top of him. His slows his hand but doesn’t stop until your walls are done squeezing around him.

You catch your breaths and stayed there a moment, only lifting your head to kiss him. Your kisses were sweet and hazy, your lips dragged against his as you recovered.

“You gonna go to sleep now?” he asked. You laughed. “You promised.”

“A promise for an orgasm is not a promise. Besides, I have to take care of you first, don’t I?” You grind against him and he held you close, gathering the duvet and standing, carrying you back inside. “Oh, now you’re wide awake, huh?”

That night you had the best sleep of your life. The next morning, however, your thighs were slightly less than thankful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Peter Parker


	34. Snow Bunnies (Peter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short and sweet

> _Since requests are now open can I ask for a Peter Parker x reader? Like a date night with Pete (it's really just hanging out and cuddling lmao) and just really fluffy and cute, also can it be a chubby reader? Thank yOU_

* * *

 

“So you got snowed in,” you said in your best Captain America voice. “Happens to the best of us.”

“Please stop…”

You sat on Peter's bed wrapped in his duvet, huddled in front of the space heater. The snow was packed against the window, now high enough for a boot to sink in. Your parents weren't keen on the idea of you staying at Peter's for the night but you weren't about to brave those conditions for their sanity. Besides, Peter had nothing but good intentions. His intentions were to stay as warm as possible by kissing you and holding you close.

“Why is _he_ the physical fitness Avenger?” you asked. “Shouldn't it be someone who didn't take drugs to get big? Like Black Widow or Thor or Falcon?”

“Take it up with the state of New York. I have no power.”

“So you say.” He fed you a grape. “I think you’re very powerful.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

You reached over and pinched his cheek. “I take it back, big ears.”

He raised his hands up to his ears. “I’m growin’ into them!”

“Slowly but surely, yeah.”

You two decided that being stranded wouldn't ruin your movie night. You turned Pacific Rim into a kaiju movie marathon and stocked up on snacks in Peter's room. Then he gave you a shirt that was too big for him to sleep in. So big, in fact, that you had to ask where he’d gotten it.

_“Oh, um, it’s a long story.”_

_You tucked some of his hair behind his ear. “Everything’s a long story with you. With the spider powers it was understandable but with a t-shirt?”_

_“The t-shirt and spider powers are related.”_

_“Of course they are.”_

You found out about Spider-Man by accident. You were walking home and some weirdo tried to mug you. Spider-Man swooped down and saved you, sticking the guy to a dumpster with his webs. When he asked if you were okay, you recognized his voice, but you weren’t sure. Then you told him you were going to meet with your boyfriend at the library and his moment of panic tipped you off. Since then, he’d been surprised by how easily you adjusted to being not only Peter’s girlfriend but Spider-Man’s too.

You pulled a grape from the vine and fed him. “Have you fought a kaiju?”

“No, I fought a Giant Man.”

“Did the Giant Man give you a ride?”

Peter shook his head. “He actually kicked my ass.”

“Was that the Berlin thing?” you asked. “The one in the-”

“Airport, yeah.” You sighed. “Babe, that was a year ago. All I have are scars from it.”

“I know but it bugs me, like… You had a truck dropped on you…. Who does that? That’s rude.”

That was the one thing you couldn’t adjust to: The near death experiences. Peter ran head-first into danger constantly, and you would be glued to the tv, watching Spider-Man scale burning buildings and dodge bullets and all you wanted to do was save him, because your Peter was in that suit.

You tried not to be like this, you tried your hardest, but the bruises would show up and you’d get the urge to find and fuck up whoever did that to him.

“Didn’t MJ tell you that you can’t fight the world?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and he laughed, turning your head. “Did she or did she not?”

“I’ll fight whoever I want to.”

“But you don’t have to, because I’m here.”

He gazed into your eyes and you grinned. “I guess so.”

“You know so.”

You turned back to the movie and settled back into his chest. The wind beat against the window like an intruder trying to climb in. Before you met Peter, not Spider-Man, but Peter, you would have flinched at the sound. But the cold couldn’t even touch you when you were in his arms. You couldn’t fight the world, and neither could he, but you did what you could for each other.

“Who would win? The Avengers or Godzilla?” you asked.

“Godzilla,” he replied.

“Wow, no faith in your own squad.”

“I’m just being honest!”

You shrugged. “I think you’d win with the power of love and friendship. I love you, so you’ll make it out alive.” Peter froze. He paused the movie, and moved so that his whole body was facing you. “What?”

“Repeat that.”

You were confused for a moment, but only a moment. “I love you, so you’ll make it out alive.”

“You…" His face turned pink. He sat back on his heels and tried to put the words together a thousand times to make sure he heard what he heard. "No way… You love me?”

You smiled from ear to ear. It hadn’t actually occured to you that you’d never said that to him before. You just assumed you’d said it a thousand and one times, because that’s how often you said it in your head. You loved this geeky, hyper science boy.

“Yeah, dummy.”

It took him a moment to process it. You thought he was going to cry. The look in his eyes said more than enough, but he said it aloud just to be sure. “I love you, too.”

“So that’s why I worry _constantly_! Because I love you and you’re constantly on the brink of death!”

“And I make it out alive because you love me...”

You sniffled. “Peter, stop, you’re gonna make me cry.”

He shook his head and put his hand on your cheek. “No, no, no! Don’t cry. This is, like, the happiest day of my life.”

“Are you sure?”

“Okay, meeting Mr. Stark was a close second.”

You sucked your teeth and tugged on the collar of his shirt, kissing him gently. “You’re talking yourself into a hole again. Please come back and warm me up again.”

“Okay!”

He got back into his place behind you, pulling you close and wrapping the duvet around you. You started the movie again, but you swore you heard him whisper to himself, “She loves me…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Tony


	35. A Meeting of Two Minds (Tony)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's smut and fake science  
> this took way longer because my first draft was weird. i don't know if this is any less weird but here we go

 

> _So I know I already sent you that swearing Steve type request. But like can I get some Tony/under 30 reader, where the reader is suuuuuper smart. Like Tony level smart and she impresses him and he wants to "eat da booty like groceries". Maybe not exactly that but he wants reader. Hardcore._

There was something comforting about working on your inventions in your studio with nothing but your music and your interns as company. It was very much like living inside of your own head, especially since your current project involved you crawling inside of a giant head.

You called it the Motherboard and it was to be the center of your completed lab, one part security system, one part central computer and hub of information, all parts awesome. You were crammed inside like a fetus, wiring the voice into the gargantuan device’s electric skull. Your interns were busy working on your smaller project: a type of fabric with a built-in force field.

Over the sound the of the Run The Jewels song playing from the speakers, the doorbell ring from your watch startled you out of focus.

You groaned and rolled your eyes, calling down to the front desk. “This better be good.”

“It is, Miss.________________, Tony Stark is here to see you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “He said Friday.”

“It _is_ Friday.”

“Fuck…” You crawled out of the Motherboard and took off your safety goggles. “Shit, shit, shit… Look alive, girls, we have a visitor.”

The interns gasped. “Who?”

“Tony Stark.” They gasped louder. Some of them sucked their teeth. “Bear with me, alright! Don’t get an attitude! Farrah, come with me.”

Farrah’s eyes grew wide. “Why me?”

“Because you’re very bubbly and I admire that. Come on.”

You slipped your lab coat on in an attempt to look halfway presentable and quickly made your way to the ground floor with Farrah following closely behind. You were filled with jitters. After secretly talking to Tony for two months, you were finally meeting him in person to show him around your lab. You’d done this dance before, with news outlets and government officials, never with Tony Stark. It felt a bit like meeting someone on Tinder, except this meeting wasn’t a date…

Okay, well, you were pretty sure it wasn’t a date.

Okay, well, that detail was a bit foggy considering a compromising and recurring dream you'd been having about Tony since you made these plans, one that involved a lot more flexibility than you had.

“How do I look?” you asked your intern. “Does it matter? It probably doesn’t.”

Farrah moved some hair from your face and pulled out a mirror to check her hijab. “You look sweaty, but you’ve been working all day.”

“Right…”

“What is he here for?”

You took a deep breath as the elevator landed. “He wants to take a look around.”

“Do you trust him?”

You nodded. “I trust him enough.”

The elevator doors opened and you walked out with a smile. Tony was waiting behind the desk in sunglasses when he saw you. He was dressed pretty casually, although you were sure the shoes alone probably cost more than you’d seen in the past year, or past five years.

You stood in front of him for a moment, and didn’t really say anything until Farrah nudged you gently, and you extended your hand towards him to shake. “Hello, Mr. Stark, nice to finally see you on something that isn’t a projection.”

He shook your hand, then turned your wrist, inspecting your watch with a click of his tongue. “Stark Tech?”

 _“Modified_ Stark Tech, I stripped it down to its bare bones and made it’s interface a bit more intuitive. I thought it would be harder to do but it’s honestly like your inventions were made for reverse engineering.” You could see that comment caught him off-guard and you quickly made an attempt to recover. “Not to say it wasn’t typically impressive Stark technology, but…. Anyway, this is Farrah, she’s one of fifteen interns, she’s a doll and a robotics expert.”

Farrah waved, Tony grinned. “ _Fifteen_ interns?”

You decided to start leading him to the lab. “It’s my way of giving back. I didn’t have a mentor growing up so I want other Black girls to have what I didn’t. Especially in a field like this, we’re excelling as islands but we should really focus on what we can achieve together.”

Tony shrugged. “I’ve always been more of an island guy.”

You turned around with a smirk. “So you’ve told me, but you’re also here so there must be a reason. Beyond you wanting to see me in all my sweaty glory in person, naturally.”

His eyes scanned you from your toes up. “If I'm remembering correctly, you're building a literal brain. Shaped like a brain within a metal head? Was that what you told me?’

You chuckled. You all stepped into the elevator. Farrah stood between you and tried figuring out what exactly this relationship was, since you'd spent hours talking to each other for months and his gaze was something that the word ‘friendly' couldn't quite cover.

“Tell me our debates about Star Wars didn't completely distract you, Stark.” You rolled your tongue along the inside of your cheek. Tony was, as always, impressed by how unimpressed you were by him. You treated him as a fellow scientist and inventor first, and a friend second.

“Despite you being completely wrong about the prequels, I remained professional. You're the one who got all shouty.”

“Whatever, Tony.”

“I actually enjoyed the Motherboard concept. How long till it's done?”

“At this rate, a few weeks, it's wild.”

“Ooh, we should celebrate sometime. Martinis? I know a great place on the Upper East Side.”

You whipped your head towards him and froze. As much as you wanted to kick yourself for it, this moment was playing out the way it had in one of your dreams. Except, in your dream, Farrah wasn't there, and the elevator stalled, giving him enough time to press you against the wall and tell you how hard your voice made him when you spoke on the phone late at night.

“Hmm?” questioned Tony. “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I don't go on dates with rich men, Tony.”

"It's not a date, it's a... _meeting of two minds_."

You stepped off the elevator and into the lab. Tony looked up at the giant centerpiece in awe. It wasn't feigned awe, either, it was a genuine amazement that filled you with pride. You cleared your throat and showed him around, showing him how each component was an object of necessity. You emphasized the way that the head functioned as a base of information that was far more secure than anything that SHIELD used before disintegrating.

“This way we abandon the uneasiness of cellphones and laptops and adopt a new era of scientific research uninhibited by leaked information,” you explained. “For example, if you were to store your plans for an Iron Man suit or modification that you wouldn't want in the wrong hands-”

“It would be virtually invisible…”

You nodded. “I tested it on several prototypes by having my brother hack into the system. He’s sixteen and bored.”

As you walked by him, his eyes remained transfixed on your machine. “_________________…..”

“Hmm?”

“Two things: Is this legal? How the hell did you come up with it?”

“Technically Thor isn't legal but the world makes do. It sort of… came to me in a dream.” You shrugged. “Necessity is the mother- _board_ of invention. That’s why I wanted to show you something else…” You lifted up a roll of blue fabric. “It has a force-field embedded into every stitch. It's lighter than Kevlar so it allows for a more fluid movement. It’s far too intricate for mass production, but I was thinking, with this shade of blue, maybe you could work it into a new suit for Cap? That’s probably asking for a lot.”

Tony shook his head and ran the fabric under his fingers, then looked up at you. “Jesus…If you could have a roll of fabric done, you could always come to the Avengers facility to test it with our scientists. It has much better lighting, slightly better computers, and a cafe.”

You smiled. “I’d actually love that, Tony. Thank you.” You cleared your throat. “Can we, um… I have an office where we could schedule it, work out the details…”

“Yeah, of course.”

You looked around at your interns who were, mostly, focused on their work. “Keep working, I’ll be back shortly. Farrah’s in charge.”

“Why me?” asked Farrah.

Tony turned to her. “You’re very... bubbly. People listen to that.”

You gasped. Tony held the door open for you. “I told her the same thing!”

Your office was on the first floor, in a quiet corner where you could go undisturbed while working on projects that needed a particular level of focus. Tony looked around at your schematics, plans, and notes while you tried to find your planner.

Being with him there got your mind going again. It was so quiet and secluded that you two could have done anything in there and not gotten caught, and you had to suppress thoughts of him pushing all of your hard work off your desk and stripping you down with rushed, hungry kisses-

“Looking for this?” he asked, holding your planner.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m so scatterbrained.”

“It happens. Usually it just happens to people who are too smart for their own good.” You grinned. “So what do you do when you aren’t Dr. Frankenstein?”

“Sleeping, but rarely. I have weird dreams.”

“Huh. Weird how?”

“I dream about inventions and robots, I dream about being like you and having all of these inventions tied to my name, for better or worse.” He raised an eyebrow. “Well, not everything you’ve made has been good, hasn't it ever come back to you?”

He looked down. “Of course it has.”

“And that’s gonna happen to me, too. Sadly, good intentions don’t always have good results. No matter how well you plan everything out.”

“Yeah, I told Rhodes about your fear of being killed by your own robot.”

“Oh, you… You talk about me? To the Avengers?”

“Not to them, but to my friends.”

“Am I a friend?” He stared at you for a moment, seemingly confused, and the room gave into tense silence. Taking that as a ‘no’, you laughed nervously. “Anyway, I’m free all of next week except Wednesday. I could go to the facility then.”

“Perfect. Could you make the fabric in red, too?”

“I don’t see why not.” You wrote all of this down, adding the details to make sure you didn’t screw this up. He was still staring at you, you could feel it, a penetrating gaze poking at your skin. “This is the stupidest thing, but I really wanted to impress you.”

“You impressed me the first time we spoke,” Tony said. “If I’m being honest, I haven’t been completely honest about my intentions.” He walked around the desk towards you. “I mean, yeah, wanted to see your lab and I feel like I’ll need to come back soon to see more. But I also wanna see more of you.” He smiled. “Your pupils have been dilated the whole time I’ve been here.”

 _Shit_. You looked at him and felt yourself start to lean in, but you pulled back. “Not here.”

“Of course not. You don’t date rich men.”

“That’s not it,” you replied. “My research is on this desk and I don’t want to fuck it up. But my memory tells me you have a place nearby.”

“God, everything you say is hot."

Twenty minutes later, you were in Tony Stark’s place, on his bed, under him. His lips are all over you and you’re undressing each other like impatient, horny teenagers. There was something so empowering about someone with his influence, his power, loving your mind so much that he wanted to love your body too. He took his time once all of your clothes were off, kissing you and running his hands over your brown skin, getting to know it. He paid close attention to the way you responded to touches on your ribs, on your breasts, and on your hips. He teased the inside of your thighs, making your hips roll up before finally meeting his hand with your warmth which was already, embarrassingly, wet.

“Incredible…”

He kissed his way down until his face met his hand and proceeded to pleasure you for minutes with his fingers and with his tongue, you saw constellations behind your eyes and said his name enough times to build a pedestal for his already huge ego.

And he wasn’t finished. He pulled you to the edge of the bed, turning you on your front and rolling a condom on. Then he watched you, this woman with a mind that worked faster than his, so blissful and thoughtless. Or were you thoughtful? He wondered. What were you thinking about? 

Whatever it was, was wiped from your mind the moment he pushed inside of you. God, you wished it would never end, the way he made your toes curl and made you dig your nails into the mattress, and all the dirty things he purred into your ear. You’d spent so many weeks literally curled inside of your own mind and in this moment you felt so free to be raunchy and loud and feel adored.

He found that spot inside of you and you responded with a loud moan that he took note of. He turned you on your back again because he wanted to see your face when he made you his. It was a power trip for the both of you. You were in as much control as you held his face in your hands and told him to keep his eyes open as you came in sync with each other, folded together, letting the waves pass.

He let his head drop in your shoulder and you caught your breath. “So, Wednesday, right?” he mumbled.

You nodded. “Wednesday.”

“I’ll introduce you to the whole team.”

“Can I introduce myself?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… Whatever you want, sweetheart. You can have it.”

You bit your lip. “Lab funding?”

He raised his head up. “I was already gonna offer that to you. Did I not mention that?”

“No!”

“Slipped my mind, it must have been your lab coat that threw me off.”

You rolled your eyes and kissed him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. It’s better for everyone that your lab stays open. Although, I might have to steal Farrah from you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Natasha


	36. Dana (Natasha)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mwah mwah mwah mwah mwah i fucked up and missed valentine's day and this was gonna be my v-day one and it was so cute in my head and there were just hearts floating into the sky as my alternate-universe-where-emily-blunt-actually-took-the-role-of-black-widow version of natasha kisses you, dear reader  
> but i fucked up and missed valentine's day so we suffer

 

> _Hi I don't know if your still doing brown sugar request but I was wonder if you could do a Natasha one were she has to go undercover at a pride parade and they meet_

What happened was a haze. It all started with a moment of overstimulation. She'd never been to a Pride parade, it wasn’t because she had no reason or desire to. Her sexuality was never a matter of public opinion or performance. The facts of her life and the lovers she kept were private to her and a select few friends, like most things. It was more functional that way.

The mission was to locate and subdue a Russian operative who would have been hiding among a group of homophobic hecklers at the parade. The homophobia was merely a hobby, his main gig was building weapons from alien materials and selling them to associates in the former Soviet nations. It was just nice to see an arms dealer getting out there and having fun.

Natasha was disguised, in a hot blonde wig, with rainbows painted on her cheeks, wearing an outfit that she normally wouldn’t have even if you paid her. Her teammates were all recognizable, and they weren’t exactly spies, so she went alone.

The parade was a barrage of colors and sounds, protest signs, and public displays of affection. It was one of those particular environments where blending in wasn't really an option. After all, what is Pride if one is shrinking amongst those standing tall?

Spotting the homophobes in the crowds of onlookers wasn’t the hard part, the hard part was spotting this one specific homophobe amongst the scattered dozen.

This is when she started getting a little distracted. She was peering into a group of anti-gay religious nuts when she felt someone tap her arm. She turned, and there you were, with the brightest smile she’d ever seen. You held up your sign that said ‘NO NYPD AT PRIDE’ and stuck your tongue out at the hecklers.

She was slightly annoyed that you distracted her, and touched her, but she was also impressed by how bold you were.

“You ever noticed how they always be dressed like Walter White?” you asked her. “I have a theory that most of these fuckin’ anti-gay groups are part of a secret society of people who peaked in middle school and have been having loveless sex for twenty years with their miserable partners. The only way they know how to cope is to meet in caves on Saturday nights sacrifice chickens to giant posters of "We need global warming" "Why doesn't he show his birth certificate" "Why doesn't he show his birth certificate" Donald "Laziness is a trait in blacks" Trump.”

Natasha chuckled. “That’s… Elaborate.”

You shrugged. “I have to rationalize it somehow. Some of these fuckers really think we’re trying to indoctrinate their kids into a cult, I can only assume it’s because they have experience indoctrinating kids into cults.” You started noticing that she was a little uncomfortable and pulled away from her. “First Pride?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is it obvious?”

“Painfully. It’s okay, I’ll be your buddy. I’m _______________.”

“I’m Dana,” she said. “Nice to have company, I don’t have that many gay friends.”

You gasped. “My God, you poor child. That’ll change. I’ve come every year for the past, hmm, five-ish years. My first year I came as an ‘ally’.”

You both laughed. Natasha felt herself easing up with you, even outside of the disguise and persona, but she kept her eyes on the crowds. Even though, given the choice, she would’ve kept her eyes on you. It was rare for her to feel so attracted to someone so immediately, but you drew her in. You were warm like sunshine, and your laugh was like a song.

“You come here every year?” she asked you. You nodded, proudly. “Do you see the same people every year?”

“Yeah!” You followed her eyes and noticed that she meant among the hecklers. “Oh… Yeah.”

“Do you ever notice a group in, like, red shirts. They’re pro-gun ownership…”

“Weird armbands?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I know those assholes. I can point ‘em out whenever I see them. Why? They mess with you before?” Natasha nodded. You almost didn’t believe her. Despite her smaller stature, you noticed her muscles, she wasn’t someone you would have messed with even if you were a member of a hate group. “Don’t worry. If shit pops off, I’m a fast runner.”

A few blocks down, and Natasha found herself finally feeling less overwhelmed. She was genuinely having fun, and it was all thanks to you. You made her laugh, you got her to dance. In any other context, she would've pursued you. You were very much her type: Smart, kind, funny, humble. She could see herself spending hours with you, laying in bed, cooking. God, it was so childish... She wanted to kick herself for losing focus, but honestly she would’ve kicked herself harder if she’d left the parade without getting to know you first.

You two finally spotted the bright red shirts and you grabbed Natasha’s arm and pointed in their direction. “There they are.”

Natasha spotted her mark in the group. She had to find a way to break off and follow him without drawing attention to herself or you. She also had to find some way to get away from you, and she suspected that would be the harder task.

She got an idea when she spotted the Port-a-Potties. “I have to pee, come with me?”

You nodded. “Alright.”

You two walked over to the Port-A-Potties and Natasha hopped in. You stood in front of it, and guarded her. In your head you rehearsed it: I’m doing fine, I just have to ask for her number and I’ll be fine. But it wasn’t so simple, and she was one of the most beautiful girls you’d ever seen so, understably, you felt a bit of pressure to deliver and deliver well, and you didn’t want to come across as being pushy. You’d already designated yourself as her buddy, you didn’t want to scare her off.

The group in the red shirts noticed you and your sign. They clearly weren’t pleased, but you weren’t scared. If they hurt you, they’d have to answer to a crowd that already didn’t want them there. Five homophobes versus hundreds of parade goers were good odds on your end.

Natasha stepped out and pulled you behind the potty. You were startled, but you couldn’t help the small, adventurous kick to your heart rate that came with a girl pulling you somewhere more private.

But she wasn’t trying to kiss you.

“Listen carefully, ______________, because if this is going to work, you need to know everything.” Her voice was in a slightly lower register now, and you were nervous, but that wasn’t all you were. She smirked at you. “You’re a smart girl, I think you can handle this.”

She peeked around the corner and your brain finally decided to make an appearance. “Handle what?”

“My name’s not really Dana,” she told you. “I’m Agent Natasha Romanoff.”

Your eyes widened. “Th-The Avenger?”

“Sometimes. I’m tracking down a very dangerous arms dealer who happens to be a part of that group that’s eyeing us. He’s the tallest one, with the buzzcut and the awful sunglasses.”

“Forreal, he’s an international threat?”

“Don’t act so surprised, ______________.”

“I can’t help it… Um, what… what can I do?”

“You remember when you came up to me and stuck your tongue out at that first bunch of weirdos dressed like Walter White?” You nodded. “This time, I want you to kiss me in front of them. My mark is hyper aggressive, he has a hairline temper. He’ll get agitated, I’ll get him before he even has a chance to touch you, understand?”

“I understand, Agent Romanoff.”

“Good,” she said. She kissed you on the cheek. “Thank you for the good time.”

Before you could babble out a reply, she took your hand and led you out. The group was still staring at you. Her mark spat a slur in a language you couldn’t understand. You told them to fuck off, and Nat grabbed your face, pulling your lips to hers.

You knew that this was part of the plan, and a part of you even knew she was trying to make it look ‘real’, but it felt real. Her lips were like sugar and you felt a rush got through your body when her thumbs brushed your cheeks. You rested your hands on her waist, pulling her closer, and she melted in, deepening the kiss, moaning at the taste of you.

You thought the moan was just good acting, but it even surprised her.

You pulled away from each other, and seemed to mirror dazed stares, until it all started to move in slow motion. A fist came flying in Natasha’s direction. She pushed you out of the way and started battling the entire group of goons at once, pinning the arm of her target behind his back and using him as a shield while she discreetly cuffed him.

One of the others grabbed her hair, only to yank off her blonde wig and let her red hair stream free, like a flag of its own. She turned back to you for a moment, probably delivering a nonverbal cue to run, but you couldn’t take your eyes away.

When she pinned the mark to the ground, you finally crawled away from the scene.

Weeks later, you were working hard at the bookstore where you worked. You were asked by all of your co-workers if it was you in the video kissing THE Black Widow, and you pretended that it wasn’t. It wasn’t that you were ashamed, you just respected Natasha’s work and discretion more than you wanted five minutes of fame. Besides, she was on a mission, how could you know if she were actually gay? You came to the conclusion that she wasn't, and you accepted that, because you didn't really meet her... But you really liked her...

You were stocking shelves on a ladder, when a woman came up to you and gently tapped you on the leg. “Yes, ma’am, you looking for something?”

“I am.”

You froze. You knew that voice and you knew it well. You suppress a smile and focused on the task at hand.  “What were you looking for?”

“A cookbook maybe. I met someone at Pride and I don’t want them knowing I can’t cook.”

You giggled. “I don’t think she’ll mind. They are a ‘she’, I’m assuming.”

“Yeah, they are.”

You stepped off of the ladder and, as you suspected, Natasha was standing there, in disguise again. You giggled. “Cookbooks are on the second floor, this is the first. We have signs and everything.”

“Do you?”

“We do.”

“Hmm…”

She looked so much better with red hair, it just suited her. "So this is the real you? Not Dana?" you asked her. She nodded. "How'd you find me?"

Natasha walked a bit closer to you. "I found you on Facebook."

You raised an eyebrow. "You have a Facebook?"

"No, Facebook's just easy to hack into." She took a deep breath. You got the feeling she wasn't quite used to this. She seemed like the type to put her work before everything. She wouldn't have such a glowing, prolific record had she not. "I shouldn't have led you on."

"No, it's fine, I'm used to finding out the girls I like are straight."

The moment shifted. Natasha scoffed and your eyes lit up. "No, that's _not_ what I meant. I should've let you know who I was right away but I didn't want to compromise the whole thing, you understand, right?"

You nodded. "So... you _are_ gay?"

"Yeah, why do you think I looked for you, ________________?"

Any minute now, you would wake up from this dream. You were convinced that this wasn't real. You pinched the side of your thigh and your breath hitched. This was real, and it was happening. Black Widow was hitting on you at your job. You looked at her lips and decided to be bold again, and she was hoping you would. You kissed her, more confident than before. Your hands were still shaking, but only because you couldn’t believe that she’d found you.

“You’re gonna make me the envy of everyone in the city,” you said, half-joking.

She playfully bit your bottom lip. “Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Pietro


	37. Slow Down (Pietro)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {singing} well i guess it would be nice, if i could touch ya body. i know not everybody has got a body like you  
> just to warn y'all april might be a dry spell but the next chapter's gonna be so worth it... SO worth it  
> also like... i'm mad i started this series before black panther.... i feel like the shine on rihanna's forehead...

> _Hey, any chance of some Piet maximoff? I love him. maybe have something where reader asks/he offers pick her up an run around the gym, just for fun? Obviously it would be great if you could weave some smut in there and maybe hint at him speaking Russian (cuz Russian is sexy.)._

* * *

 

You liked to do yoga and meditate in the training room when it was empty. There was a lot of space, a nice echo, and it was practically soundproof. Meditation helped you gain control of your body and your powers. It was Wanda’s idea to try it when you first joined and now you were just addicted to it. It was especially fun when Pietro got involved.

He was your yoga partner in the literal and euphemistic sense, and he loved both jobs.

Pietro held your ankles while you steadied yourself on your hands. You’d been trying to perfect your handstand for months with little luck, but now you really thought you had the balance and strength for it.

“Ready?” he asked you.

“Wait…” You stuck your tongue out and took a deep breath. “Alright… Slowly let go.”

Pietro gradually pulled his hands away from your legs and you closed your eyes, not thinking about falling, just thinking about balance. He covered his mouth, afraid that if he cheered he’d break your focus and ruin the pose, but you were doing it. It wasn’t perfectly straight, but it was a handstand.

You took another deep breath and slowly split your legs. Then, Pietro lost it.

“Woo! Я так горжусь тобой!”

You pulled your legs back together. “Come back!” He quickly grabbed your legs again. “Was that cool?”

“It was _awesome_ …”

You smiled. “Fuck yeah. Can you hold my legs around your waist, baby?”

“Sure.”

He did it, and you used your strength to push yourself up, wrapping your arms around his neck. You kissed him gently, your lips lingering on his the way they always did. You two kissed as if you never wanted to kiss anyone else, and you couldn’t say you ever wanted to.

You’d only had a few other relationships in your life, none as strong as this one. Pietro could cheer you up even when you didn’t want to see anyone. He was a natural caretaker and anything you needed he’d get. Being with Pietro gave you a new appreciation of your mind and your body because he loved you so much he was more than willing to drape compliments on you at any moment.

Pietro’s hands ran over your back and settled on your waist. He pulled away from your lips and kissed your nose and between your brows. “Now you’re too good for me.”

You laughed. “It was going to happen eventually, Maximoff, don’t act so surprised.”

There was a knock on the door. You turned and Clint was looking in, pretending not to watch. Pietro set you down.

“I’ll be right back.”

He ran over to the door to see what Clint wanted and you waited. The conversation went on a bit longer than you expected, and Pietro kept looking back at you, but eventually Clint receded and your boyfriend returned to you.

“The team is going to dinner, are we going?”

It was ‘we' now, always. You were a package deal. Whenever someone couldn’t get a hold of Pietro, they went to you, and vice versa. You’d been partners for as long as you’d been together.

You took his hands. “We haven’t had a quiet moment to ourselves in a while, I just wanna be with you right now.”

Pietro raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure, ____________? I’m fine with ordering Chinese and eating in your room but they were hoping you would come with them.” You made a face and he chuckled. “I’ll go tell them.”

Before he could run off, you touched his arm. “I’m feelin’ kinda buzzed could you run me around the gym?”

He kissed you on the cheek.  “I’ll run you as many times as you want, cолнышко. I’ll be right back.”

He ran back to the door, and you noticed that the other Avengers had gathered around with Clint. It was weird, but you waited. He was back only moments later, facing away from you so that you could jump on his back and “take flight”.

You hopped on and kissed behind his ear. “What was that all about?”

“What was what all about?”

“The whole ass team was just at the door…”

“Uh…” He shrugged. Before you could ask any further questions, he took off.

He ran you through the gym, through every floor of the facility, outside of the facility. You saw the world the way he did for only a moment: slowed down.

Everything seemed manageable when it all slowed down, so much of the superpowered life was chaotic and quick. The cool wind blew through your hair and on your face. You spread your arms out wide and imagined flying with Pietro high above the clouds and responsibilities that often made you forget why you became heroes in the first place. Adrenaline rushed through your veins, making you feel weightless and exhilarated. 

When you were outside, you reached towards a tree and pulled it’s branch, watching it slowly rebound and hit the next like a ripple in the ocean.

Pietro finally stopped and set you down in your room. Dizzy, you closed your eyes and leaned on the dresser. Pietro went to your side and you smiled. “I’m fine, baby…” You regained balance and opened your eyes only to find your boyfriend gone. “Pietro?” You ran out into the hallway and looked around but he was nowhere to be found. “Where the hell did you go?”

You walked to the end of the hallway and felt him run by you and back into your room. Sometimes you swore he just loved showing off his speed.

“Why?”

“I had to grab something from my room, come in and see.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so cute but so dramatic. You know, most boyfriends just _give_ the gift to their girlfriend but you make it a show, every single t-”

When you walked into the room, Pietro was on one knee, holding a ring box in his hand. You covered your mouth. “My original plan was more dramatic. We were going to go to dinner with the team and one of the fortune cookies was going to say ‘Will you marry me?’ and I would take the ring out and Wanda was going to record the whole thing. But plans changed because you wanted to stay home.”

“This is better,” you told him. You were smiling so big that your face hurt. “This is much better."

"You are my best friend. You are everything to me. I don't even know who I was before I met you, but I like who I am with you..." He cleared his throat. "I had a whole speech and now it's escaped me..."

"Just ask me. Please.”

He smiled. “Will you marry me, _____________?” You nodded. He slipped the ring on your finger and stared at it for a moment in awe. “I lost most of my family when I was a child, and for so long I thought wanting another was childish… But you…”

He looked up into your eyes. He wasn’t used to being vulnerable with people but you split him right open. This earnest side of him was yours to see, in your own private moments, like this one.

Pietro stood and kissed you, holding your jaw with his thumb rubbing against your cheek. Your back hit the bedroom door and he kissed you deeper, slower. Your fingers curled in his silver hair. He pulled away to let you breathe and he looked over you hungrily, but there was something beyond the hunger that was uniquely your little shit of a fiance.

He slid his hands under your yoga pants, cupping your ass. You kissed him again, pushing him towards the bed. He loved when you showed a little force, he saw it as a challenge. That challenge was met in a red hot instant, when he spun you around and had you pinned to the door again.

“I thought you’d want it sweet and soft to celebrate,” he whispered in your ear, sliding his warm hands down your sides to rest on your hips. “Is that what you want?”

You let him kiss your neck and you leaned your head to the side to give him access. “It’s always sweet, even when it’s not so soft.”

“Maybe I’ll be soft then…” he said. “I’ll be slow…” He ran his hand over the crotch of your pants and you pushed back against him until his other hand held you still. “We have the rest of our lives, yes?”

“You’re really doing this?”

He grinded his bulge against you, slowly. He was already hard so the fact that he was even teasing, dragging this out, let you know he wasn’t kidding, and you whimpered. He didn’t do it again. Instead he teased the waistline of your yoga pants, pushing it out with his thumb.

“Touch me…”

“So badly you want it… Не волнуйся, ты получишь то, что хочешь.”

He slid his hand under your pants, keeping away from your center. He caressed the soft skin of your outer thighs first, humming happily because he’d kissed every inch of you. There wasn’t a place on your body that he didn’t know. There weren’t many parts of your mind he didn’t know either.

That’s why he loved you. There were no secrets. You bared yourselves to each other all the time.

The closer he got to where you needed him most the more you needed him. He was driving you crazy, usually you would be on the bed by this time, but you were still mostly clothed, barely touched, and standing and he already had you panting.

He got to your inner thigh and suddenly pulled away. You whined but not for long before realizing he was pulling your pants down, finally. He usually did it with his powers, but no. He said slow and he meant it.

Once you were fully exposed to him, he turned you back around, spreading your legs with his knee. He kissed you slowly, letting his lips linger on yours. Everything was touching you, just barely, it was intense.

“Please.”

He grinned. “Don’t beg. The Maximoffs don’t beg.” Needing some friction, you rolled yourself on his thigh. He looked down at you and didn’t stop you, but held your face so that your eyes stayed on his the whole time.

“Помедленнее…”

You sighed and tried slowing your hips but that only made you more needy, and Pietro could feel your need soaking his thigh. It was driving him just as crazy as it was driving you. He lifted you off the wall and carried you to the bed, laying you down, softly, pinning your hands above your head with one hand and reaching between your bodies with the other.

You knew it was coming but it still caught you by surprise when he teased your entrance and watched you throw your head back against the pillows. He nipped at your brown skin with Russian curses, pleased by how wet you were.

“Ah, __________. Как долго мы были вместе?”

He brushed your clit with his palm as he said that, and you threw your hips up at him. Still, he waited patiently for your answer.

“Th… three years.”

He raised himself so that his face was directly above yours and he grinned with adoration. “You will cum for me three times tonight.”

You bit your lip. “I’ve _known you_ for five years, Piet…”

He quirked an eyebrow at you. “Then we should start now, yes?”

Pietro’s fingers slowly pushed into you, one and then two, slowly and deliberately pulling moans from you. He barely rubbed your clit with his thumb and gently sucked and teased your hard nipples. He did this for a while. You felt your climax building, slow, but big.

His fingers were down to the knuckle inside of you, he curled them, brushing against your most sensitive point. Your spine arched in pleasure and you cried out his name for anyone to hear. It’d only been minutes, but it felt like hours that he had you spinning near the edge, not quite allowing you the full satisfaction you needed.

“я люблю тебя.”

Pietro used his powers, causing his hand to vibrate inside of you. It was sudden, it was powerful. All that time he’d been working you up paid off because you were so sensitive to his touch. You squirmed like crazy underneath him, only then realizing that he still had your hands pinned above your head.

His thumb, still barely touching it, was vibrating against your clit while he vibrated inside of you and stared into your eyes like he had you exactly where he wanted you. You finally reached your peak and screamed out his name and he slowed his fingers down while you squeezed around him.

You were out of breath when he pulled out of you, letting your hands go. He licked his fingers clean and you immediately had your hands all over him, pulling him up to kiss you and smiling against his lips. He kissed his way over to your ear, tugging on the lobe.

“Один.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Steve and Thor


	38. Share Your Thots (Steve and Thor)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [anthony mackie voice] hey, sexy's here  
> this is mmmmm not the freakiest thing i've ever wrote, but top 3

 

> _CAN I HAVE A STEVE AND THOR REQUEST WHERE THEY GET DOWN AND DIRTY WITH THE READER BECAUSE SHE HAS A DIRTY MOUTH AND SWEARS AND IS EXTREMELY SASSY AND THEY BOTH FOUND THAT A TURN ON ?? (bonus points if she does the walk of shame in front of the rest of the avengers inc. pietro and pietro, sam, tony, nat, bucky and clint tease her)_

* * *

“If I’d known I was gonna end up with you two fuckers when Tony said ‘We need three of you to go to Hawaii’, I would’ve faked an illness and stayed at the facility,” you grumbled towards Steve and Thor as the elevator descended.

You were all readying yourselves for what would be, without a doubt, a small troop of bad guys on the other side once you reached the bottom floor. You’d just gotten rid of their leader and confiscated a chip with all of their intelligence on it. Everyone in the building had been alerted that you were there via a blaring siren and slow blinking red light. You found out early on in your superhero career that running your mouth kept the anxiety low in these sorts of situations.

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s see, Steve’s the leader, Thor’s the muscle, I’m the resident psychic. Alright, that makes enough fuckin’ sense.”

“You could stay in the elevator, you know,” Thor said with a smirk. “We could handle the hero work fine on our own, ___________.”

“And spare you a great view of my ass? Not likely.”

“How many people are down there?” asked Steve.

You closed your eyes and tried to “see”. Your sight only allowed you to view people as masses of energy, but you could usually get a solid headcount. “About thirteen, but there’s more coming. Sounds like a solid Saturday night.”

Steve chuckled. “I don’t need to know what you do in your free time.”

“But you sound so interested,” you said. You ran your hand over Thor’s forearm. “If my plan to seduce thiccums over here works out, I’ll let you watch.”

“Keep us alive first.”

You kissed Steve on the cheek. “Haven’t I told you that you’re far too cute to be making comments like that?”

“One day that mouth of yours might actually land you in a great deal of trouble,” Thor warned.

You quirked an eyebrow. “Promise, your majesty?”

You had these exchanges with Thor and Steve often. They were the easiest targets and the only ones who didn’t get too flustered or uncomfortable. Thor especially, since he’d known you the longest.

You walked in front of them and smiled. God, you loved your job. “Cover your ears.”

Steve and Thor covered their ears and the elevator doors opened. The mob charged for you and you started singing, disorienting them completely with your harp-like voice. Once you stopped, they were confused enough for Thor and Steve to start knocking down the first few. The others just stared at you in awe.

“What’s wrong, boys? Never seen a siren before?”

You started knocking heads alongside your teammates. They were bigger than you, but you were quicker than them, and you had an odd grace to your fighting style that made it look more like you were dancing with the men you gave concussions.

When you’d just about handled the room, you closed your eyes again. “Shit, there’s a few more coming, we need to move.” Thor looked back as if he were debating waiting for the rest. “Son of a bitch, Thor! Come on!”

You took his hand and started running in the direction of the rear exit. You could hear the men approaching. Steve looked back. “They’re on our tail.”

“Very well.” Thor let go of your hand, pushing you forward before throwing mjolnir in the mob’s direction and then calling it back. “Now they’re not on our tail.”

You smiled back at him. “It’s like you're _begging_ me to fuck you.”

You got out of the place in one piece and sped off to the quinjet. The first thing you did was take off the outer armor of your uniform, leaving you in a sports bra with the top half of the suit hanging from your hips. While Thor related the mission to hq, you told Steve a story about a bad date you went on.

“I’ve lived in New York for two years, been on tons of dates, rarely have I ever been on a date and thought ‘Huh, needed more tongue’. This guy was, like, terrified of my tongue, terrified of his own tongue.”

Steve laughed. “His own tongue...”

“Steven. This. Fuckin’. Guy.” You took a sip of your water. “No open mouthed kisses! He wasn’t into it! He was acting like I was asking him to fuck me with an electric toothbrush. Like, I tried telling him it wasn’t that deep but he was like ‘I’m just not good with tongue’. Famous last words, I thought I’d never recover.”

“I’m almost scared to ask but what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done on a date?”

You bit your lip and got closer to him and brought your voice down low. “One time I was on a date with this rich guy. He lived in a penthouse. He had real low self-esteem and guys like that like to be insulted during sex, I’m not proud of it but it happened. So I’m, like, screaming at him. ‘You fucking bastard, piece of shit. Bet you can’t make me cum with your loser ass! I’ll fucking fake it’. He fucked me in front of a window so the construction workers could see. I agreed to it but it was mad weird.” You looked at Thor. “I never told him about that one.”

“Why would you?”

You took another long sip. “Well, you see, as I predicted, he couldn’t make me finish so I started thinking about… Fucking...”

Steve paused. “Oh? Did it work?”

You looked again to make sure Thor wasn’t listening. “Like a charm.” You raised your water bottle to your lips again and looked down. “And it wasn’t just him, Steve.”

Before Steve could question that further, you walked away, and avoided eye contact with both men for the rest of the ride home.

When you got back to the facility, you took a quick, cold shower and nearly kicked yourself for actually saying what you’d said to Steve. The jokes were fine, but telling him you thought about him and Thor during sex was definitely a crossed line. There wasn’t any comfortable way to apologize for it either.

You slipped on your robe then dug out some more comfortable clothes to lounge in. The rest of the team wouldn’t be back for a few hours. It didn’t quite feel like the right time to be hanging out with Thor and Steve just yet.

Then Thor knocked on your door. You knew it was Thor knocking because the first knock was always louder than the rest. Sometimes he really didn’t know his own strength.

Never one to keep Thor waiting, you reluctantly answered the door. “Hey big sexy, wassup?”

He shrugged. “Just thinking about you,” he said. “We never get this sort of quality alone time anymore. I feel I should rectify that somehow.”

You smiled and looked down, remembering you were wearing nothing besides a robe. Thor was being a gentleman and keeping his eyes on yours, but he definitely wasn’t hiding his desire to peek. You’d never seen his pupils so dark, it caught you off-guard.

“What were your plans, huh?” you asked. “I could always kick your ass in Street Fighter again, but you have to promise not to break another controller. Money doesn’t grow on trees the way I assume it does in Asgard.”

He grinned that grin at you that made your stomach do turns all the time. “What would you have me do, __________________?”

You raised an eyebrow and thought of a thousand dirty jokes and a hundred filthy requests. But you held back. “Should I get dressed first?”

Thor said your name again, this time in a much deeper tone. The vibrating bass of his voice sent a shiver down your spine that you thought was exclusive to your dreams. He caressed your cheek, waiting for a moment to see if you’d swat him away, and you didn’t. You couldn’t. Your body wanted to melt into his touch forever.

“You can have me, _____________. What would you have me do?”

You looked up at him. “Steve told you…”

“No, I have good hearing and you’re awful at whispering, I’m afraid.” You laughed with him. “I was flattered by what I heard. Flattered to be the fantasy of such a beautiful woman… Tell me, when you thought of me, how many times did you cum?”

You swallowed. The hand not touching your face, lightly traced down your robe, stopping at the tie keeping you from being fully exposed to both him and the open hallway.

“Sometimes it’s been hard to stop.”

Thor started undoing your robe and you stepped back so that he could get a better look, but then he paused. “I thought it would be most unfair to have you all to myself.” Your mouth fell open. “So, if you don’t mind…”

Steve walked in with his arms crossed. He seemed nervous, but he definitely wasn’t disinterested, quite the opposite. He was looking at you like you were his next meal.

“We spoke about your confession and agreed you’ve earned something special,” Thor continued. “We love you and you were so good on the mission.”

Thor opened your robe and you were having a hard time thinking. Steve approached you, walking behind you and slowly sliding the robe down your shoulders, leaving kisses where the fabric used to be. Thor shut the door.

“So good…” Steve whispered. “‘Cept that bad mouth.”

Thor walked back over to you and ran his thumb over your lips. You were already wrecked and they’d barely touched you. “Yes, __________, you’re not usually so quiet. This is all for you, tell us what you want.”

Steve’s kisses got a bit rougher, he was getting confident. _Good._ “You two fucking hornballs really thought this through,” you turned to Steve. “How about it? Remember that offer I made earlier about letting you watch?”

“You want that?” he asked. “Want me to watch while Thor takes care of you?”

Steve got from behind you and you stepped back onto your bed, keeping your eyes on Steve’s as he set himself up across the room. Thor climbed between your legs and started kissing his way up from your stomach.

“I’ll be watching you, too. I bet your o-face is gorgeous as hell.”

Thor made it up to your lips and his kiss made you feel breathless. If there were any doubts that he was truly a god, those were long gone. His lips were soft and warm and all you wanted to do was have them all over you.

He broke away when he heard Steve starting to undress, and moved his lips to your neck to give you a perfect, unobstructed view. Steve made it a show for you, watching your breasts rise and fall, thinking of licking the sweat from your brown skin, maybe when Thor was done.

It was a great distraction away from Thor’s wandering hand, which was rubbing against your inner thigh, getting closer to your wetness and you didn’t even notice until he was there, gently teasing your entrance with your index finger and chuckling at your high-pitched response.

“Shut… the fuck up… it’s been a while.” you moaned. “If I had my way, I would’ve fucked you two a long ass time ago- Shit! Thor…”

Thor circled your wetness a few times, getting you and his fingers ready. Steve was naked now, with his hand wrapped around his dick, pumping slowly. Thor looked up at you, ready to watch as he slowly pushed two thick fingers inside of you. You bit your lip and your eyes almost fluttered shut, but you wanted to see Steve. Thor’s fingers were being so good to you that you found it hard not to just let your eyes roll back.  

“Thor, _please_ , use your mouth on me.”

“Sweet one, I’ve wanted to since we met…”

You shuddered under his words and feeling of his fingers curling inside of you. Every obscenity you knew spilled from your mouth. Steve had a cocky half-smirk on his face seeing how much you loved this, and that only fucked you up more. Thor’s tongue rolled over your clit, and you arched off your bed. You couldn’t remember ever being this close this quickly before. Your fingers tangled in Thor’s hair and he held your hips still so you couldn’t squirm from him or the pleasure he was giving you.

Steve blushed from his face to his shoulders and now his head was leaned back and he was watching you from under his hooded eyes. You non verbally promised that he would have a turn with you next and that just pushed him closer to the edge.

Thor rubbed your sweet spot and licked your clit, the overstimulation was too much and you came crashing around his fingers and on his tongue, calling out his name. He was proud of himself, as expected. He slowed down and pulled his fingers out and licked you clean.

“Are you ready, Steve?” he asked.

You clenched around nothing with anticipation as Steve made his way over to the bed. You both knew he wouldn’t last long inside of you but you needed to feel him. Thor sat you between his legs and played with your breasts while Steve climbed on top of you.

He kissed you, far more gentle than Thor but no less inviting. Then he smiled at you. “You have condoms, sweetheart?”

“Of course I do, in the nightstand.” Thor opened the drawer and pulled out two condoms. “This is gonna be a long night…”

Thor leaned over you and kissed you on the forehead. “We really do love you, ______________.”

“Aww! Don’t get all soft on me now, Odinson. Not with a tongue like that, fuck.” Steve held himself at your entrance and you whimpered. “Steve, wait!” Both he and Thor froze and looked down at you with concern. You smirked at them. “I was gonna say after your turn and Thor’s turn we should take a break. Drink some water, yeah? Talk about positions for round two?”

They breathed a sigh of relief and took turns kissing you again. “You got it.”

Steve pushed in and you honestly considered living the rest of your life like this with your favorite men in the world. You felt so happy and loved. Most importantly, you felt well-fucked.

“You feel so fucking good,” Steve groaned.

“I could say the same to you.”

Steve got a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Thor, hold her hands over her head.” Thor ran his hands up your arms until he was gripping yours. You felt so full that you were shaking. “You don’t have to lift a finger.”

With that, Steve started thrusting into you, slow and steady at first, letting you feel him and get used to him. You were still sensitive from Thor’s mouth and your mouth was just going. You were acutely aware of what you were saying and the noises you were making, they weren’t bad judging by the pleased looks on your boys’ faces.

Steve went faster. Your dug your nails into Thor’s hands. He ran his thumbs over yours. “Keep going, Steve, she’s close again.”

“I know…” he moaned. “So am I…”

You moaned Steve’s name out and felt dizzy as your climax built and built so soon. You wanted to drag your nails down Steve’s back but Thor was restraining you and he could feel your resistance as you approached your second orgasm.

Then you stopped resisting. Steve pressed a long kiss to your lips and you came at the same time, both bodies convulsing and stuttering. Thor tenderly rubbed your arms until the aftershocks passed.

Steve pulled out and you kept your eyes closed as they moved around you. You felt the weight of the bed shift a few times and listened to Thor unbuckling. Your heart immediately picked up. Then you felt him crawl between your legs again and loom over you. Steve took your hands. Thor kissed any parts of you that he missed.

“I suppose it’s my turn.”

“Jesus fucking Christ…”

* * *

A few hours later the other Avengers all arrived back. They called for you, Thor, and Steve. The boys were fast asleep, but you impulsively leapt whenever anyone called. The problem was, when you leapt, your thighs started screaming. Every bit of you beneath your belt was screaming to crawl back into bed and avoid the stares. But then they called again.

_Shit. Shit. Fuck..._

You grabbed a t-shirt and some yoga pants and headed in their direction. Well, you _wobbled_ in their direction. Your curly hair was still stuck to your face from hours of exercise and the shower that followed. At first, no one seemed to notice. But then, Wanda noticed. She very much noticed. When Wanda started staring, so did Tony, and it all went downhill from there. 

"You seen Steve? Thor, maybe?" Tony asked. "You know, Steve and Thor. Both about 6'3. Blond. One's a little stiff and the other's annoyingly friendly."

You looked back at him. "Stiff's not a word I would use to describe Steve." You grabbed the container of Advil and started heading back to your room. "The mission went well. They're sleeping."

Your teammates whistled and laughed. "Sleeping, huh? They calling you NyQuil?" Sam joked. 

"That will probably be so funny later, Sam."

Natasha patted your shoulder. "You used condoms, right?"

"Yes, Nat..."

"Would the babies be like... Hybrid babies?"

"Clint, I will scream."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Frank Castle, as so many  
> SO MANY OF YOU  
> have been asking about


	39. Out Of Nowhere (Punisher)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew i need a shower..

 

> _Oh! Request for Frank (NSFW) - A continuation of the one Brown Sugar chapter you came out with! Frank has been coming to ol girl's house for a minute and one night, he comes and he's not injured. He just wants some loving ;D_

_i couldn't decide which one you meant so this is a follow up to chapter mmmm 23_

* * *

A thunderstorm ripped it’s way through the neighborhood, scaring everyone including your dog. You closed the windows to keep the wind from blowing your plants onto the floor. The storm was a Godsend, the humidity had been killing you all day, it was loud and wet outside but at least you could breathe again.

You calmed your dog down with gentle rubs. He was such a tough little fat thing until he heard a noise, then he’d shrink up and retreat. You didn’t mind, you were tough enough to protect both of you.

Stormy nights were perfect for Disney movies and popcorn and not going outside to beat goons. Some people didn’t learn that lesson so easily, your next guest was one of those people.

The loud knock on your door threatened to rile your dog up again. You scratched behind his ears and kissed him on his wrinkled forehead. “It’s alright, Savior. Relax, bud.” They knocked again. “I’m coming!”

You kissed your dog again and got up from the couch, grabbing your heavy brass knuckles along the way. You got on your tiptoes and looked out through the peephole only to see Frank Fucking Castle. You looked back at Savior.

“You know who it is,” you said with a sigh.

After you opened the door, Frank took a step back. He was covered in someone else’s blood, as always, but most of it washed off in the rain. You extended a warm smile in his direction, rolling your tongue along the inside of your mouth, and he grinned back.

“You almost had another concussion, Frankie,” you told him, holding up your knuckles. “These are new, I shattered someone’s cheekbone with them last night.”

“Alright, well, let it be known I ain’t come here to fuck with you.”

“You’d never. Why you hanging back like a stranger? Come in, act like you know the place.”

Frank stepped in. Savior bolted up to him and received copious head rubs. “I do know the place. Too damn well.”

You pulled off his jacket and hung it up in your front closet with all of yours, like you always did. “Take off your boots, soldier. I just washed my rugs.”

“I’m not about to take off my boots like I’m staying.”

“It wasn’t a request. You just came in from the biggest storm of the season, you _are_ staying.” You glanced at him, he was walking just fine. There weren’t any visible cuts or bruises that you hadn’t seen before. “What’s hurt? Let me look at you.”

He shook his head. “Nothing’s hurt. Nothing on me at least, can’t say the same for the other guy.”

You cocked your head to the side as he made his way towards your kitchen. “Of course not...” Frank opened your refrigerator and grabbed a beer. “Sure, you can have one.”

“Sorry.”

Frank moved to put the bottle back and you put your hand over his. “No, I mean it, have one. You might not be hurt but you look like hell. I’m glad I wasn’t out there tonight.”

He gave you an appreciative nod. You tried not trip over Savior as the excitable dog trailed Frank through your apartment. There was something wrong with Frank, you could see in his gait, not that there wasn’t always something wrong with Frank but whatever this was happened to be different somehow.

He sat down on the couch with the beer and chuckled at the tv. “Sleeping Beauty?”

You rolled your eyes. “Got something to say, Frankie?”

“Pictured you being a Mulan girl, is all.”

“I’m a Beauty and the Beast girl, actually. That’s why I have Savior.”

As if on cue, the dog leapt into Frank’s lap. “She callin’ you ugly again, buddy?”

You plopped down next to them. “He is ugly, but it’s charming. Reminds me of someone I know.”

“I’ll try not to be offended.”

“Calm down, Frankie. I think you’re sexy. Don’t let it go to your head or I’ll stab you.” Frank patted Savior and set him down on the floor so he could take off his heavy boots like you’d asked him to. “Oh God, I just realized you probably got some goon’s blood on my couch.”

“Nah, most of that washed off. It was on my face.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Do I ever?”

“Fine. Fair enough. Then, why are you here? I mean, I consider you a friend but you usually have a reason. You usually need me for back up or for patching up… You just having a beer on my couch feels like you’re hiding something.”

“Maybe I just wanted to be with someone tonight, that so wrong?”

You shook your head. “Not wrong at all, but I have to wonder, why me?”

Frank wasn’t sure how to answer it. He knew the answer, and had known the answer for a long time, but saying and thinking it were two different things. He took a long sip of his beer and turned to you thinking looking into your eyes would force it out of him, but it didn’t.

You rolled your eyes and took the beer from him. “Tell me. Talk to me and you can have this back.”

“I’m not a little kid.”

“I know you’re not, little kids aren’t so tight-lipped.” You paused the movie so that he could think in quiet, as much quiet as the storm outside would allow you. “Frankie, whatever it is, I won’t judge you for it. What we do gets edgy and sometimes it pushes us, but you know that I of all people will understand that. Just tell me wh--”

Frank surprised you with a soft kiss, one that didn’t expect anything back, it just needed to be done to get it out of the way. He pulled away and looked down, taking his beer back from you while you blinked in shock.

“Happy now?” he asked you. “I know you’re not into that soft shit but you really came out of nowhere.”

You didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t that you’d never thought about it, but you were sure he’d never thought about it. The whole night flipped completely with that one move. Your relationship with Frank was about to flip too.

Feeling courageous now, you got up and stood in front of him. Frank seemed a bit confused at first, but then you took a deep breath and lifted your shirt over your head. When you felt like he was going to stop you, you took off your sweat pants and straddled his lap.

“I know you have this weird anti-hero desire to deny yourself happiness, but I don’t have that same desire.” You told him. You lifted his hands to your hips and he stared up at you with those same intense eyes you’d fallen for.  “And I’ve wanted you to kiss me from the moment we met, but I wanted _you_ to kiss _me_.”

He didn’t seem to know where to start, not with you. It’d been so long, and you were different from anyone he’d met. He ran his hands down your thighs and you kissed him. You went slow. Frank opened up to you with a kiss that sparked a fire.

In truth, he had no idea how bad he’d wanted you until he had you in his hands, on his lap. He ran his stubbled face along your soft skin as he trailed kisses down your body. He loved the pleased little noises you made as he gave into his desire for you. Two of his fingers hooked onto the waist of your panties and he snapped them, making you squirm. That’s what you wanted. You knew your Frankie had it in him.

“Hold still…” growled Frank. He slid his hand under your panties. “I want you ready for me…”

You kept your eyes on him, watching his focus as he rubbed slow circles around your heat. You’d wanted him to touch you for so long and the rough pads of his fingers worked even better than they had in your dreams. You tried to hold still as he’d told you, but your hips so desperately wanted to move with him.

He whispered sweet things to you the whole time, telling you how much he wanted you, how much he appreciated you, how he would make you both feel good. You needed this release. You needed this tenderness. Frank understood that, he always understood that about you.

His thumb grazed your clit and you whined. He grinned.  “Easy, easy, I’ll come back to it.”

“You’re gonna be a pain in the ass, aren’t you?”

He laughed at that. “You expecting anything less from me, girl?” He pushed a thick finger inside of you. “You are so…” He pushed in another finger and your breathing grew shallow. “... Soft.”

Frank held you close with one hand and fucked you with the other. Steady, gentle strokes let his fingers go deeper and deeper and his command to hold still got harder to follow by the second. He loved all of it. Your curves, your skin, your scars and bruises. He loved your muscles, your ‘fuck me’ voice, and the way you felt around his fingers.

You could get used to this, sex with someone who looked at you like you were a princess, like you weren’t New York’s biggest bruisers making heart eyes and moaning in the middle of a storm. The combined amount of warrants for your arrests could have made a lovely wallpaper but here you were, kissing like you had all the time in the world to be in love.

He curled his fingers inside of you and you gripped tight to his shoulders. “Fuck, Frank! Right there!”

“Yeah? Like that?” He went a little faster, focusing on that spot that had you seeing stars and squeezing your eyes shut, whispering you up to the point of no return. “There we go… Yeah…”

He lifted you up on his fingers, moving you on his terms, making you scream by his hands, and scream you did as you came hard. You shuddered and shook. He was gentle, slowing down his fingers and kissing your shoulders.

Once he’d pulled out his fingers and you were ready, you got off of his lap and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards your bedroom. Savior watched you go and you smiled down at him. “I’ll be right back.”

You shut the door and immediately crashed your lips to Frank’s, nearly knocking him back. You tugged up his wet shirt and he helped you pull it off, throwing it to wayside. He fell back on your bed and straddled him again, kissing every muscle and every scar and bruise. He was hard against your chest and you just couldn’t wait to make him feel good.

You unbuckled his pants, then sat up for a second, trying to remember where your condoms were, it’d been that long. They were in your dresser under your bras. You pulled out a few, just in case, ripping one open with your teeth and sliding down Frank’s pants. You kissed the deep v of his hips and kissed the top of his thighs before his dick sprang out of his underwear.

You sat up again and took him in your hand, watching him fall apart under your gentle strokes. You rolled the condom onto his dick, then locked eyes with him as you moved down and licked up his shaft to his tip. He responded with a deep moan.

“Fuck, ____________.”

“In a second.”

He laughed. “You really have jokes right now?”

You took him in your mouth, working him in deeper and deeper, listening to him just lose it under you. It made you feel oddly powerful, especially once you locked eyes with him. You never thought you’d describe Frank Castle’s face as you gave him a blowjob as being reverent, but it was.

You pulled yourself off of him and held his dick in your hands. “Ready?”

“Oh yeah…”

You bit your lip and lowered yourself down on him, running your free hand over his abs. He was so big it took you a moment, and you both seemed to hold your breath until you’d sunk all the way down. He sat up and kissed you, you felt like paradise and he wasn’t sure he was worth it yet, but here you were. You were everything and you always would be, he knew that now.

“Make me yours, sweetheart.”

You smiled against his lips. “Gladly, Frankie.”

You started rolling your hips on him, he held you, keeping you steady. You were still sensitive from your first orgasm, so every movement was almost too much, but Frank told you to claim him. _Make me yours_. You wouldn’t let him down.

You pushed him onto his back and started riding him like a champ, rolling your hips up, making it a performance. Sweat dripped down your body and Frank watched, enraptured by you. You undid your bra and tossed it off so that he could see, and play with, all of you. As you’d hoped, he reached up and started playing with your breasts and you moaned loud to keep him going.

It worked. His thrusts met yours and the pace became quick, dizzying. You were sure neighbors could hear, but you didn’t care. Frank clearly didn’t either. He grabbed you by the waist and flipped you on your back, kissing you hard as he went harder, deeper, faster. He used his weight to keep you still and rub his pelvis against your clit and you were so overwhelmed that it was practically impossible to hold back your climax.

Frank didn’t stop, he kept his pace, whispering the nastiest shit you’d ever heard into your ear about how good you felt and how well you were taking him. It made you cum again just moments later. You felt boneless under him, muscles tingling. He was close, you could see it on his face that he was so… so… close…

“Shit, ______________.”

“Cum for me…”

Frank came moments later with a growl and hard stuttering thrusts until he was finished. Then he fell on top of you. You ran your fingers down his spine and waited through the aftershocks. Your hearts were pounding between your trembling bodies.

“Alright?” he asked.

“Alright is an understatement…” You giggled. “They teach you that in the Marines?”

He looked at you and smiled. “You play too much.”

“You love it, and I love you, Frank.”

“I love you.”

You kissed him, then kissed his nose and both of his cheeks. “See what happens when you open up?”

“Hey, I think the storm stopped.”

“We’re staying right here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: T'Challa


	40. A Mess (T'Challa)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's short! there was no way to do this without it being a lil ooc

> _hi! could you do a fic where the avengers men are arguing over the reader and are always trying to spend time with her, and reader is completely oblivious. T'Challa though, (her boyfriend), sees what's happening and just like makes out with her in front of everyone just to be a lil shit and shows them that reader is his. THANK YOU!_

* * *

 

Before joining the Avengers, you’d always had the unfortunate quality of being magnetic. People were just drawn to you. It was your personality, your smile, and your sense of optimism. Everyone wanted to be around that.

The unfortunate part about it was that sometimes it would get a little… _Hairy_.

Natasha noticed that the Avengers were fighting over you when you got back from having lunch with Bruce and he received stern glares from the other guys. After you left the room, there was a brief passive-aggressive exchange between Bruce and Sam that caught Nat completely off-guard. When you returned, they acted like everything was okay. You were completely unaware. You went about your day as if nothing happened at all, but Natasha couldn’t let it go.

It caught her interest again when Steve offered to help you with groceries and Sam immediately jumped in, then Scott, then Bucky. Eventually, it just became a family trip to the grocery store, with all of the guys holding doors for you and pushing the cart so you wouldn’t have to. You were still in your own world.

Once the gifts started piling up, it was hard to ignore, or so Nat thought. 

“Um, _____________,” Natasha said. You looked up from your book with a small grin. “Did Thor bring you those dozen heart-shaped donuts for… your _birthday?_ ”

You shook your head. “No reason! I think they’re for the whole team, that’s why I put them on the table.”

She reached for one. “Okay…”

“You know what’s so funny? I mentioned the donuts in passing to Vision two days ago. Thor must’ve overheard. He’s so sweet.”

Natasha took a huge bite and nodded her head slowly. “Uh-huh... And the flowers Bruce gave you?"

"He said he was thinking about me. I think it's because I helped him get that spider out of his apartment, he don't have to admit it."

"Sure..." You went back to reading and Natasha began to suspect it would be better if you didn't realize what was going on. 

It went on this way for weeks and weeks. Rhodey knew you loved his stories so he told them to you all the time, and Tony offered you a trip to Paris. Even Peter Parker was nurturing a schoolboy crush on you, being the only Avenger who ever beat him in video games.

It was becoming a mess. It was becoming a total mess. It was becoming such a mess that full arguments were breaking out in the facility, with Avengers accusing other Avengers of trying to “hog” time with you, and you still didn’t notice. Natasha was starting to wonder how you did it or if you had some secret power that turned grown adults into melodramatic teenagers.

All this competition culminated in a giant argument between Tony and Bucky in front of everyone. Apparently, you’d made plans with both of them for the same day, and Tony changed something to make his time run into Bucky’s. Bucky was pissed.

“You can’t just hog the spotlight all the time!” Bucky argued. “____________ and I made these plans weeks ago.”

“Reschedule.”

“I’m sorry that your signature Stark charm isn’t working.”

“Oh, and yours is?”

Bucky glared. “I’m not trying to go out with _______________.”

“Bull. Shit. You’re no better than the rest of us, we all see you sticking close to her during training.”

He crossed his arms. “I’m making sure… She doesn’t get hurt.”

Thor sighed. The whole team had been watching this pettiness unfold all day, and it was his idea to just have Bucky and Tony ‘talk it out’, but he was about to make things a little bit worse. “You two have been arguing for some time now, maybe the truth you find yourselves blind to is that she doesn’t want either of you.”

Tony scoffed. “Yeah, you’re so subtle.”

“Trust me, Stark, she’s not your type.” Thor said. “Or yours, Barnes.”

Scott raised an eyebrow. “Think there’s a chance for me?”

“No,” they all replied.

Steve stepped forward. “_______________ isn’t even here, we shouldn’t argue about her like she a prize to be won.”

“You’re right but I’m onto you,” Bucky replied.

“Yeah, Steve, you’re not slick with your too tight shirts.” Sam said. Steve gasped. “Sorry.”

The room erupted into chaos. You walked in moments later, with T’Challa following close behind, and the noise suddenly stopped.

You smiled at everyone. “What’s happening in here, y’all?” 

“Lively debates!” Tony replied.

“I mean… _okay_ … Look who’s here!” You bounced around T’Challa. It wasn’t hard to see what he brought out of you, you were practically beaming. “It’s been too long since he’s been in the States, right?” Your teammates all looked at each other, then back at him. “Oh shit, Bucky and Tony… I can’t hang out with either of you today, I’m sorry. Some other time.”

Tony and Bucky both gave you an understanding fake grin. Natasha covered her mouth because she couldn’t believe the turn this just took. She definitely overheard you having a flirty phone call with someone, so she knew you had someone, but she never would've guessed T'Challa. You never really brought it up, hence the entire team thinking you were on the market. But there was something deeply satisfying about it ending this way, especially for Natasha. 

"Aww, you two are cute," she said.

“Thank you. I’ll be waiting downstairs,” T’Challa told you, pulling you into his arms. “I missed you.”

You smiled and he captured your lips in a long, slow kiss. The tone of the room shifted dramatically the longer the kiss went on. T’Challa eventually let you breathe and winked at the other Avengers.

“I missed all of you, too." With that, he walked away with your suitcase in tow.

“Since when?” asked Rhodey, when he was sure T’Challa was gone.

“A couple of months,” you replied. “I couldn’t go around telling people I’m dating the King of Wakanda, they’d never believe me.” You gave all of your boys (and Natasha) hugs. “T’s taking me to a music festival for the weekend. See y’all when I come back, don’t act up!”

Completely deflated now, they all said goodbye and watched you go. Natasha finally let out the cackle she’d been holding back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Bruce Banner (I think.... this is the only Bruce request I have? Which sucks...)


	41. Dorks In Love (Bruce)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we love a scientist. we love a meet-cute. we love awkwardness

>   _*notices a lack of Bruce for Brown Sugar and Honey* How do you feel about a Bruce x Reader fic with a slightly younger but no less brilliant scientist or engineer who gets Bruce SHOOK? Smut would be awesome, I just find the idea of an initially flustered but no less passionate Bruce to be adorable. Please and thank you (unless requests are closed already!)_

they weren't closed, thank you!

* * *

You first met at a scientific expo. The day was one of the busiest you’d ever had. You’d run all over the convention center, bumping elbows with the brightest minds in your field. It wouldn’t have made you so anxious had your supervisor not been breathing down your neck the whole time, making sure you stayed professional. Shamefully, you understood your real role here. You were like a collector Barbie doll in a lab coat: A Black female geneticist.

While it didn’t thrill you that the interest in your work was partially meant to fill a quota, you appreciated the funding, so you smiled and gave quick facts like you were supposed to.

Bruce was a novelty, too. He was the only Avenger in attendance that year. It was almost unfair. Tony was the showman and the extrovert. Hell, even having Rhodey as a backup would have made him significantly less stressed. It was the crowds that really got him, he wasn’t really meant for crowds or speaking in front of audiences. He was quiet, and he prefered quiet, the quiet was a refuge from the chaos.

Besides, it wasn’t as if the scientists there really cared about his scientific career beyond Hulk. They all pretended. He guessed it was out of pity.

He had some time to walk around the floor before his presentation. He looked around at all of the experiments and technology in awe of it, all while trying to avoid bumping into anyone. This was probably where someone like Thor would’ve come in handy.

He noticed a drone flying up ahead and watched it zoom past him only for his watch to get caught on something. It’d snagged on to someone’s backpack. He tried pulling away, but the backpack moved first, dragging him a few steps before stopping again and attempting to turn.

That’s when he first saw you.

You turned, like a scene in a movie, the solitary face in a crowd. Your curls bounced and your glossed lips were slightly parted in the shape of an ‘O’. He was kicking himself for thinking something so patronizing, as you wouldn’t have been in attendance unless you had serious credits to your name, but you were almost too beautiful to be there. You looked back at him like a deer caught in headlights and quickly moved to help him unhitch from your backpack.

“I am so, so, _so_ sorry!” you exclaimed.

He shook his head, his lips were moving but sound wasn’t coming out. “It… It was me. I’m-I’m a total mess today.”

You groaned. “It got caught on a string. Dr. Banner, I’m sorry. I really should have brought a smaller bag, but I get nervous going to these things, every time I leave the lab I turn into a complete disaster.”

“Again, it’s no problem…” He searched your lab coat for a name. “Dr. ___________________.”

He unsnagged his watch and gave you a bashful grin. Bruce’s brilliance preceded him, but his good looks caught you by surprise in person. He was handsome in a soft way, just the way you liked it.

“I know that name from somewhere,” he said. “You wrote a paper on the ethics of gene splicing and eugenics, right?”

You nodded. “That’s me. That thing took far longer than it ever needed to.”

“If it’s any consolation, it was excellent work, time totally well spent.”

“Thank you, that means a lot coming from you. I’m surprised to see you here, Dr. Banner, with the way people talk… about you…” You cringed. “That came out wrong!”

“No, I know, people say I’ve been ‘off’ since Hulk.”

“Yeah, but--”

“No, they’re right but that doesn’t make it feel any better.”

You rolled your eyes. “Everyone here’s a little off, it’s a merit of the profession. You don’t really need sanity to save the world.”

Your supervisor stuck his head in between you, breaking the magic moment before it could really take off. You stepped back and tried not to look as offended as you were.

“Dr. Banner, a pleasure to meet you. I’m Dr. Wurtz from Wurtz Genetics. We have a presentation soon, so we really must be going.”

“You should come!” you said, with a smile. That surprised your boss completely. “I promise I’m not boring. I have a lot of dad jokes.”

Bruce laughed when you showed him your speech cards. “How long did it take you to write those?”

“Too long. If I kept all of them in, this presentation would have been three hours.” The cards nearly slipped from your shaking hands. “Shit. I should go!”

Dr. Wurtz nodded. “Yes, we should. Come on.”

Before you could say goodbye to each other, you and Bruce were separated by a wall of lab coats and cameras, and he was off to find out which room you were speaking in.

Right before your presentation, you watched the presenter before you handle the crowd with mastery. They were talking about racism in illegitimate scientific studies but the audience was clinging to their every word as if they were speaking of unicorns. You knew you couldn’t work a crowd like that, no matter how many dad jokes you had, and you were starting to get a bit nervous despite yourself, especially once the previous presentation ended and the crowd waiting for yours filed in.

“How are we feeling?” asked Dr. Wurtz.

“I feel like I did before my divorce: Uncertain of how things are about to work out from this point forward, questioning every decision, and nauseous.”

He put his hands on his hips. “That’s not good.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that.”

“Just… Don’t think of it as being like your divorce, think of it as being the wedding.”

“Happy, questioning every decision, and nauseous.”

“That’s better!”

You were given the cue to go on stage and you walked out with a smile. The lights hit you and you tried not to be too intimidated by the lab’s logo projecting right behind your face. The crowd seemed eager, some people pulled out their phones, journalists were ready with cameras. It was all extremely intimidating.

But then, you saw Bruce. He was standing off to the side, trying not to draw attention to himself. You know you’d only just met him moments ago, but the gesture of solidarity with you meant more than he knew. You smiled at him and he smiled back, and you proceeded confidently with your first dad joke.

After your presentation, you made a point to go to his, and you met with him backstage afterwards. He awkwardly asked you to go to dinner with him and you accepted. You both lived in New York, so you exchanged numbers and made promises to meet up again in the future.

You kept that promise for a while and your lives got busy but your friendship stayed strong. He even managed to convince you to come work for the Avengers, an offer you accepted, mostly because Tony paid better than your old lab ever did and promised not to make you talk on a stage.

Bruce came to visit you on your first day. He bashfully stepped into the room with a bouquet of flowers. You smiled.

“They’re real.”

“Yeah, a bee tried to sting me.”

“I commend your bravery.” You set the flowers off to the side and pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You can say that as many times as you want, that won’t make it true. You put a good word in for me. God, I could kiss you.” Your hand clamped around your mouth. “I mean that… platonically.”

He cleared his throat. “Right. Right. Of course. How does the new uniform feel?”

You kept your eyes down, thinking maybe looking at the man you’d secretly been harboring feelings for since the day you met him was your weakness. “I feel official and important. I had to pinch myself earlier when I asked Steve for a blood sample. It’s like I could take on the world, I could go for a third PhD.”

“Shoot for eight. I have seven.”

“I do love a challenge, but do I love student debt though?”

“Good point.”

“We should get lunch togeth--” Before you could finish your sentence, you noticed the food in his other hand. “Bruce, have I told you lately that I absolutely adore you?”

“Not to dig up old wounds, but you did say you could kiss me.”

You winced. “I was hoping you forgot.”

Bruce wasn’t quite sure if that was the moment to tell you that he didn’t want to forget, and that kissing you was something he’d wanted for a while, so he stuttered and then just didn't. Like a firecracker that couldn't get off the ground.

You found some place quiet on the facility, a little blindspot far from the noise where you and Bruce could just be together. You talked about everything besides science, but your unscientific brain was just as quick and impressive and sometimes left him completely tongue tied. You were, by nature, hyper-observant, noticing small things about people like a detective. One time you figured out exactly how many different types of cologne Bruce put on before meeting with you. It was embarrassing but not enough for him to not be in awe of your mind.

“Yesterday, on the train, I think I ruined someone's date,” you told him. “It wasn't intentional or anything. I just noticed that this guy was playing with his ring finger as if there were usually something there and I assumed the woman was his wife--”

“Oh no…”

“Yeah. Yes, I did. But I saved that lady some heartache. Trust me, there's little worse than being cheated on.”

“Someone cheated? On you?”

You nodded. “I've had just about every bad break-up you can imagine. Don’t act so surprised.”

“I'm not acting. I'm surprised. If I were- If we were- Why would someone ever cheat on you?”

“Well, I'm a workaholic, I'm absent minded… I don't know…” You looked into your eyes. “We exist on a planet of 7 billion and counting. There are more in the galaxies. I can sort of see why I wouldn't be enough for someone.”

“This has nothing to do with science, ______________. You're more than enough for anyone.”

“You think so?”

“I do.”

You looked down. “Would I be more than enough for you?”

“More than I deserve.”

Your eyes flashed up to meet his. “Is that a hard opinion?” You ran your fingers through his hair. “Because I disagree. I think that in another life you are my soulmate, Bruce Banner. If you believe in such things.”

“In another life?”

“Yeah, one when we’re less busy maybe…” He just stared at you. “What?”

“What about this life?” he asked. “What are we in this one?”

You shifted away from him. “Bruce, you can’t like me… I’m messy and geeky and you’re a genius.”

“Don’t make me name all the ways you’re out of my league, ______________. It’ll get real embarrassing real quick.”

You giggled. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious, I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He took your hands in his. His hands were so warm, and when he linked his fingers with yours you felt a sort of odd cosmic confirmation that this was where you needed to be. He was still so shy with you, after all this time. With all your inside jokes and all your sweet glances, he was still shy as if he’d just met you.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, still waiting for a rejection.

You smiled. “If you don’t, it’ll bum me out.”

Bruce smiled and kissed you. It was shy at first, but you quickly found a rhythm and bridged the gap between your bodies. His hand settled at the base of your spine. Tenderness was new to you, your exes always wanted to devour you, Bruce was reverent. He seemed to be memorizing the way your lips felt as if he wouldn’t get another chance to feel them again.

You pressed your hand to his chest, feeling a harder muscle than you expected, and pulled away. His eyes stayed on your lips, and you could tell he was thinking the same thing that you were.

“That was the first time in a long time that I’ve been out of my own head,” he told you. He pressed another quick peck to your lips. “How long is your lunch break?”

“We, um, we still have an hour.”

“Perfect.”

He took your hand and snuck you up to his room. You weren’t expecting him to have you pressed against his door, pushing your skirt up. Bruce kissed your neck and your jaw and the front of your throat, moaning praises for your soft skin. He went slow, taking his time, experimenting. He wanted to discover all the right ways and places to touch you, so that next time would be even better.

Yes, next time. Every kiss held a promise that there would be a next time.

It all became a blur until you were both stripped. At some point, you moved to the bed and Bruce was whispering sweet things into your ear while his fingers explored your wetness. He was clearly still nervous about disappointing you, but he adored you so much he was willing to forgo his anxiety.

Bruce brought his thumb to his mouth, licking it before he rolled it over your clit. You arched yourself against him and he held you with his other hand, kissing your pulse. You had to stay quiet. You knew there were other Avengers on the floor and the last thing you needed was to be known as someone’s girlfriend at a job like this. You grabbed one of Bruce’s pillows and covered your mouth with it, at one point biting down on it hard.

Bruce would sped up and then slow down, bringing you close and then letting you down over and over, to the point where you were shivering and whimpering. He didn’t have the heart to deny you again, so this time he kept up momentum and then--

“Oh!”

You came hard, Bruce pressed two fingers in just as you convulsed. You stared up at the ceiling in bliss as your now-boyfriend disappeared from your line of sight. He came back moments later with a condom on, looking in your eyes and kissing you on the nose. It was such a chaste gesture for what was happening.

“Welcome to the Avengers,” he said, lining himself up with you. “We’re so privileged to have such a brilliant mind in our midst.”

You smiled. “Happy to be here.”

“Great.”

“You’re such a massive dor--”

You cut yourself off when he started to enter you, the further he went, the more you wanted. You were almost sad that your bodies had limits. You started thinking of ways you could make this last longer somehow, maybe even forever.

He was so soft with you, slow, milking it. He wasn’t nervous or unsure, this was the most sure of anything he’d been in a while. That you were his brilliant, gorgeous girl and he’d take care of you and protect you as long as you’d let him. The anxiety about messing that up somehow could come later.

The fact that you were still coming down from your last climax only amplified how good this felt. With him practically folded into you, thrusting in slow and deep. There was no space between you, you didn’t want it.

You came easily, slipping from one bliss into another, breathy, trying to contain yourself. He kissed you and slowed down a bit, feeling himself drawing closer to the edge.

“Can I turn you around?”

You couldn’t speak so you just nodded and turned onto your stomach. Bruce pulled your back flush to his chest and entered you again, reaching down and circling your clit with his thumb. You weren’t sure you could cum a third time, but he was willing to challenge that hypothesis.

He panted hard in your ear, thrusting a bit harder now to bring himself over the edge. You closed your eyes and let him work on you. The hand he wasn’t using to play with you intertwined with yours.

You couldn’t believe it but you were close again.

“C-Come on, doctor…” He whispered. He found that spot deep in you and and you responded by throwing yourself back at him. “Come on…”

This time you dragged him down with you. He caught his breath and pulled out, rolling onto his back. You both stared up at the ceiling. In typical “You” fashion, the two of you didn’t quite know how to navigate this hazy state. But then, a question came to your mind.

“Can Vision reproduce?” you asked. “He’s both organic and mechanical but that doesn’t mean he functions as a man. If he does reproduce, that infers that there’s now android sperm and I don’t know how to feel about that from a genetics standpoint.”

He furrowed his brows and turned to you. “Do you think it could bond with human eggs?”

“It could either bond with them or damage them.”

“Well, yeah.”

“If it does bond and he can reproduce, how does heredity work in that case? Is it a human child or some sort of hybrid…”

“I love your mind but you might be overthinking this.”

“Bruce, I don’t think I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT: Sam!! or Thor!! Or Both!! I haven't decided yet.


End file.
